The Hinata House
by Rainbowkittyblossomwings
Summary: "Oh, and Sarge?" he added, peeking out the door. "No invading, please." Fuyuki left the room, but nobody was sure who he had been talking to. There was no "Sergeant" in the room. Just Keroro, Fuyuki's roommate in the Mental House. Whether this is all just one big conspiracy, or Fuyuki actually HAS gone crazy, no one knows for sure. collab by Rainbowkittybattlescars
1. Fuyuki's Messy Floor and Hair

**All right, so this is a collboration story me and RunwithscissorsXXXbattlescars are writing for the summer. She gave me a copy and paste thing to write for the author's note but I threw that sort of out and wrote my own.**

**We'll be alternating on chapters. The first chapter though is hers. **

**Together we'll call ourselves Rainbowkittybattlescars. That will be our name.**

**Anyway the disclaimer: Neither of us own anything. Not even the computer I'm writing on. Life is all a lie.**

**Also if your triggered by unreality or anything don't read this. **

* * *

"Fuyuki?"

Natsumi rapped the back of her knuckles against Fuyuki's door. No response came from him, so she tapped a little bit harder. "Fuyuki!" Her voice was coaxing, just barely above a whisper.

The door opened itself, and Natsumi poked her head in, peering around the room. She wasn't sure where Fuyuki was. Bars of sunlight streamed into the room, obscured in a corner where a plant was set by the window; although the blinds were down, it was morning and the early sun shone brightly. The floor was cluttered with toys and manga books, undoubtedly belonging to that green idiot. She still didn't see her brother but she walked into the room anyway, thinking little of the sloppy door-closing job. Fuyuki's door didn't need to be locked, anyway.

"…Sis?" asked a sleepy voice. Natsumi's eyes met those of her brother's, and a smile caused her lips to curl. So that was where was—still in bed.

Fuyuki rubbed his eyes and let out a yawn. He glanced at the clock on his bed-stand. "It's 7:15 in the morning. Are you sure you're…?"

"It's fine," said Natsumi with a reassuring laugh. "But what about you, Fuyuki? You ought to be up already."

Fuyuki looked off to the side. "Yeah, but I stayed up a little last night…."

"Ha! You're too excited." She ruffled his already-messy bed-head. Fuyuki had such a bad one, and she knew this because she was his sister, but any stranger looking at his messy blue hair after he had just woken up would see no difference between the new accidental hairstyle and his usual gravity-defying cowlicks.

"So! Up you go." Natsumi put down the bag she had been holding so she could wrap her hands around his wrists and hoist him up from his bed.

Fuyuki shook her hands off and laughed. "Sis, I'm too old now for you to be doing everything for me."

"Oh, come on now, Fuyuki! I'm just enjoying it while it lasts." She leaned forward and looked at him teasingly. "Besides, I'm your older sister. It's my job to baby you…."

Subconsciously, Natsumi trailed off, leaving the sentence as though she hadn't mean for it to end quite yet. She had chosen her words carefully. Fuyuki was old enough to be taking care of himself. She quickly shook the worrisome thought from her head.

"Well. Ah." Natsumi lifted up the bag she had put down, and pushed it toward Fuyuki. "This is for you. Happy birthday."

"You remembered!" said Fuyuki with glee. He took the back in his hands and set it in his lap, sitting back down on his bed to search through it. Natsumi grinned and walked around Fuyuki eagerly. Just as his finger began to peel back a strip of tape on a wrapped shallow box shape, Natsumi's foot came down on something sharp, hard, and plastic.

"Ow!" she yelped in pain and brought her foot up. Fuyuki stood up to catch her as she fell against his bed, and all the presents spilled from his lap.

"What did I step on?" Natsumi winced and scanned the floor. She knew she should have been more careful in maneuvering around the cluttered mess when she came in the room, probably pushed all the junk to the side or something. Fuyuki's room was usually messy, but this was practically _insane_.

What she had stepped on, she quickly saw, was a small plastic Gundam figurine that looked as if it had been newly assembled. Seeing its sharp shield pointing upward, Natsumi began to rub the bottom of her socked foot.

"Sorry." Fuyuki sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Sarge left his stuff all over the floor."

"What was he doing last night?" asked Natsumi. "Wait—_that's_ why you were up so late—Ohh." Her eyebrows twisted downward. "That idiot! Why am I not surprised."

Fuyuki laughed again. "Aw, you should forgive him, sis. It's better than making his late-night invasion plans with the rest of the frogs."

Natsumi peered at him a moment, a bit silent as she wondered what to say. Finally she looked downward into her lap. "Y-yeah, I guess so."

"Haha, I _know_!" Fuyuki clasped his hands on his knees and gazed toward the ceiling. "Remember when the Sarge and the others brought the house to life, and you thought that it was trying to attack us, but it was actually just trying to show us its love?"

Natsumi inhaled through her nose, very silent, and then gently let out her breath. "Fuyuki…."

"Oh! Or the time the Sarge and I went to Easter Island and didn't tell you? You were stumped for the longest time; you didn't know where on Earth we were!" He quickly corrected himself. "Or Pokopen, I mean, as the aliens call it."

"Fuyuki…."

He paused. "I think the Sarge might have died on that island. But then he came back as a plant, and defeated the Akuaku."

Natsumi gave up and forced a smile. "R-really, now? That sounds… exciting."

"Ha! But oh, you should have been there." Fuyuki thought a moment. "Or were you there…? Hm, no, I don't think you were, since you clearly don't remember…."

"Fuyuki…." Natsumi took a breath and smiled. "You should open your presents now and see what I've gotten you."

"You're right, sis." Fuyuki picked up his presents from off the ground and put them back into his lap. His finger hovered over the piece of tape he had halfway peeled off the top one before Natsumi hurt her foot, but his fingers moved to the edge of the gift. "Is it… a picture frame?" He looked at his sister, who shook her head excitedly.

Ever since they were little, Natsumi and Fuyuki always made a game of opening presents. Before the wrapping came off, they would have to guess what it was. Round objects were the easiest, but rectangular ones were always much harder since there were lots of them and they could be anything, really.

"Not a picture frame…. Hmmm…." Fuyuki's fingers traced all around the edge, until he came upon familiar, uniform grooves on three of its sides. "I feel… hm… papers? Oh! It's a book!"

Natsumi giggled. "Go on. Open it up."

Fuyuki had a marvelous look in his eyes as he tore off the paper and looked at the book's cover, which depicted a fictional adventurous scene. "Ah, an adventure book, I see."

"You've been doing a lot of reading, haven't you?" Natsumi tucked her hands between her knees and rocked on Fuyuki's mattress. "Couldn't let you be bored all the time."

"Bored? I'm not bored. I've got the Sarge to talk to. He always has the greatest stories." An air of excitement flashed in Fuyuki's eyes. "Ooh, I wonder if one of these in an occult book. You couldn't have, sis, could you?" Natsumi opened her mouth, then shut it. "Oh, thank you, sis!" Fuyuki bent down and picked up the next present, which he instantly recognized as another book. "It's a—"

"Yeah, it's a book."

Elatedly, Fuyuki tore off the wrapping. The look in his eyes dimmed slightly, but he did well in hiding it. "Oh, a war history book. That's cool." Under his breath, he muttered something about keeping it away from the Corporal.

Natsumi watched him for a moment, then clapped her hands together. "Okay! Open the last one now. You'll like this one a lot."

That got him. Fuyuki picked up the last present hidden away by pale green wrapping, undoubtedly another book, and peeled away the paper covering it. He held it up with delight. "A master collection of ancient myths! No way!"

"Yes way," said Natsumi as gave his arm a playful little punch. "Do you like it?"

"Mm-hm." Fuyuki discreetly peered back down into the back, and Natsumi had a sinking feeling.

"Wh-what is it?" Her heart began to pound.

"Oh, well… did you happen to get the latest issue of _Occult Monthly_…?"

"Oh. Um." She swallowed, trying to steady the shakiness in her voice. "W-well, the thing is, Fuyuki, I haven't really had the time…. I mean…." She swallowed again, blinking back as she could feel her face heating.

"That's okay, sis. I know you've been really busy." Fuyuki smiled. He was always so good at being the assuring one. He was a lot of things. And he was Natsumi's brother. Her very important, very valuable, precious family member.

"N-no, Fuyuki…." She pressed her palms together. "I—I think I may have time later today to pick one up…. And then I'll give it to you after school. Is that all right?"

Fuyuki's face brightened. "You really don't have to."

"B-but I will. Because it's your birthday." Natsumi stared him in the eye, but then she quickly looked away. That wasn't a good idea. She didn't want to ruin Fuyuki's birthday with her stupid emotions. She turned from him, wiped her eyes, then turned back to give him a tight, long hug.

"I love you, Fuyuki. I love you very, very much." She realized that her voice was a bit shaky-sounding, but it didn't look like Fuyuki noticed. He was just really glad to be getting a hug from his sister.

"Love you too, sis." He pat her back. "Thanks for the presents. Now you'd better get to school or else you'll be late, okay?"

"All right. All right then." She pulled away, and stole one last look at Fuyuki. He was growing older now, but he was still Natsumi's baby brother, with his disheveled hair and kid-like excitement whenever he got a new book. Seeing him smiling made her smile, as well. No way she could feel down when he gave her a look like that.

"Okay!" Natsumi stood up, taking care not to step on another Gunpla this time. "I'm off to school. See you in the afternoon, Fuyuki, okay?"

"Okay!" he smiled back. Natsumi walked off and waved to him as she exited the door, shutting it quietly on her way out.

As she through the halls of the Hinata House, toward the exit, she felt energy building up in the muscles in her arms and legs. She'd make sure that Fuyuki had a great birthday. She'd get him that stupid magazine, and maybe cook him a cake, too, if she had time. No, scratch that, Natsumi thought. She wouldn't have time to make a cake if she was also going to the bookstore to get the dumb magazine. She'd probably have to buy one instead. She didn't have much money, but she was pretty sure she'd be able to get some, since it was a Friday and so she'd be getting a paycheck for the week at both her jobs afterschool and in the evening. Then, that meant tomorrow would be the weekend, and she could talk to Fuyuki even more since she wouldn't have school to worry about. Yeah, she could make things work.

Natsumi shut the doors behind her as she exited the building. She paused before walking too far off, still thinking things over. She really did want to make Fuyuki a cake. But to make a cake, she'd have to cut out her trip to the bookstore to get Fuyuki that magazine. If she'd been thinking beforehand, she could have just gotten the stupid magazine a week ago instead of lying to Fuyuki and saying that she hadn't had any time.

Natsumi could feel the tears coming back already. Magazines like those were stupid and full of lies. But what could she do? It was Fuyuki's birthday. Maybe letting it slip just this once…. Fuyuki's birthday ought to be really special, after all. He hardly had any time to have fun nowadays.

Natsumi clenched her fists, letting the tears fly loose as they pleased. Outside where Fuyuki couldn't see, she usually allowed this to happen. She stuffed down the guilt she felt, and began to run away from the building, refusing to give so much as a backward glance at Fuyuki's new home as of a few months ago—the Hinata Mental Institution.


	2. Cake and Balloons for Lunch

**So hey, second chapter. I wrote this one. Yep. Not much to say.**

**Runwithscissors made the titles though. I regret them and giving her the power. She said she wanted to do it because "You don't captilize the beginning of every word in the sentence."**

**She edited this chapter she went grammar nazi on it. It was terrifying.  
**

* * *

"You're short a few 50 yen, miss."

The bookstore clerk looked at Natsumi impatiently after Natsumi had requested the one item she was buying, the monthly occult magazine-issue #47—"Evidence of Aliens' Involvement with the Dinosaurs." Natsumi didn't care for the occult at all, but it was Fuyuki's birthday and she would get him whatever he wanted to make this day at least a little more special for him. He deserved that at least. After all, he was a precious family member and she wasn't prepared to let anymore sadness befall him.

"Sorry…." Natsumi apologized. With a nervous giggle, she dug into her pocket to find the money she needed. She handed it over to the clerk, glad that she was able to find a bookstore that was carrying Fuyuki's favorite magazine so cheaply, it fit her price range just barely.

"You interested in things like this?" The store clerk leaned her arm on the check-out counter as she rung her up and put the magazine in a bag. "I always found them complete bullshit myself. I mean, aliens? Real and wandering around earth somewhere? It just doesn't seem believable."

"Yeah…" Natsumi awkwardly agreed, "I guess I can understand that viewpoint." The clerk looked at her oddly like she was a nut. "Oh, no, before you get it wrong I'm not into the occult and aliens! This is a present for my little brother. It's his birthday today."

"Oh. That makes sense. Younger boys are more likely to go through the phase of being into aliens and stuff like that. I myself have a brother who's _crazy_ about dinosaurs," the clerk answered.

Natsumi bit her lip. "I wish it was just a phase…" she muttered under her breath. The clerk heard her, though.

"I'm sure it is. And if it's not, who knows? Maybe he'll get into science and become an astronaut or something! It's not completely hopeless, after all." The clerk tried to cheer up Natsumi.

Natsumi took the plastic bag with the occult magazine and turned away before answering. She made a quick dash out of the store to the dismay of the clerk. Scratching her head, the clerk just shrugged. Had she said something wrong?

Outside the store, Natsumi leaned against the side of the building and held the bag against her heart.

_What if it is completely hopeless, though?_ she wondered._ The doctors have said that Fuyuki's making no progress in his treatment at all. _Natsumi tried not to cry. Today was a happy day. No tears were supposed to be shed.

"I hate aliens…" she muttered to keep herself from crying. It seemed to work and keep her focused; after all, it was easier to be angry than sad and it kept her more focused on her goal. Soon enough, she wiped her eyes, ready to go to the supermarket and pick up Fuyuki's cake. The sooner she did that, the sooner she'd see her precious brother again. Glancing up, she saw that the sun was still bright in the sky, even though it was nearing the evening.

"All right, I think I have enough…" Natsumi mentally counted her cash on hand and stood up straight, ready to depart. "I'll be there soon, Fuyuki."

* * *

"You're short 50 yen," the clerk told Natsumi as he rung up her cash and cake.

"Again?" Natsumi almost yelled but instead only expressed her severe frustration. "Just a sec." She tried not to curse her rotten luck and instead cursed her lack of income. Fishing through her pocket, though, she found nothing. "N-no…." She searched the other pocket and then her purse. There was nothing there.

"No…. No, no, no, no!" Natsumi kept repeating. If she couldn't get Fuyuki a cake, he wouldn't have a normal birthday. He needed this. He needed one normal day. Just once.

"I'm sorry, but if you don't have the cash, we can't let you purchase this," the clerk told her. "That's one of our policies."

"B-but… I need this…." Natsumi looked to the clerk with reddening eyes. "It's my brother's birthday…. You don't understand…."

"I'm sorry, but—" The clerk was cut off.

"Natsumi?" A questioning yet familiar voice filled Natsumi's ears as she turned the girl in the line next to her. "Is that you?"

"Satsuki…." Natsumi wiped a small tear from her eyes, "Could I borrow 50 yen from you? Please? I'll make it up to you and pay you back, I promise!" Natsumi begged.

"Sure. As long you let me talk to you after the clerk rings up my drink. I haven't seen you in a while with how much you've been working." Satsuki smiled. Natsumi smiled too. She usually didn't count on her friends—usually stayed strong and helped herself—but when she did count on her friends, it always went well and it reminded Natsumi that she wasn't alone.

"All right," Natsumi answered as Satsuki handed her the money. She quickly bought the cake and waited for Satsuki to finish her purchase.

After Satsuki had gotten her drink, she walked outside the store, accompanying Natsumi and stretching.

"You've been so busy, I haven't seen you in so long!" Satsuki finally spoke. "Well, outside of school, I mean."

"Yeah, I've been working part-time, remember?" Natsumi reminded her.

"Oh yeah. Will you be off of work for summer vacation when school lets out?" Satsuki asked. "Yayoi and I would love for you to maybe come on a trip with us to the beach. It would be just like old times, and it would be super fun!"

"I can't," Natsumi responded with hesitation. "I'm going to take a third job when school is let off for summer break."

"Really? Geez..." Satsuki frowned awkwardly. She tried to change the subject. "Who's the cake for, anyway?"

"Fuyuki. My little brother. It's his birthday," Natsumi answered.

"Fuyuki?" Satsuki asked, "Isn't that the guy who fell off the school roof six months ago?"

"…Y-yeah…" said Natsumi.

"He had been skipping school before that too, wasn't he? Is your brother a delinquent or something? Maybe he was hanging out with that upperclassmen Saburo."

"My brother's not a delinquent." Natsumi responded. She wanted to defend Saburo too, but there really wasn't much to say about that. Not that acting like a delinquent was a bad thing. At least, in Saburo's case it wasn't.

"I heard a rumor or something that he said he jumped off the school roof to catch an alien falling off a hovercraft or something." Satsuki giggled. "But I don't really believe it or anything, don't worry. The more prominent rumors that you should be worried about that _I've_ heard are that he was skipping school to aid in some sort of alien invasion."

Natsumi remained silent.

"Or…" Satsuki tapped her chin. "…was it _stop_ an alien invasion? Well, that's what I heard he said. I've heard so many different rumors about that guy, honestly."

Satsuki paused and looked up at her friend, who was now looking down at her shoes instead of Satsuki.

"But they're not real! Don't worry! Anyway, how's your brother doing? I mean, he did fall off of the school roof. Was he discharged from the hospital?"

"Y-yeah, a while back. He fell into a bush so there wasn't as much damage as there could have been," Natsumi admitted.

"That's great! But if he's discharged where is he? Why isn't he at school?" Satsuki asked.

"H-he was transferred to a different place…" said Natsumi.

"Really? For physical therapy or something? Or was it because…." Satsuki bit her lip. She didn't know how to finish the sentence, since the more likely rumor of what happened to Fuyuki would probably sadden her friend.

Natsumi gathered up her bag that the cake was in. "I have to go. I don't want to leave Fuyuki waiting too long for me." She quickly waved good-bye. Before Satsuki could even give her a good-bye hug, her friend was gone. Just like usual.

"Poor Natsumi…" Satsuki whispered to herself. Sympathy was all she could give to the poor girl. It was all she had.

* * *

Natsumi entered the glass doors to the first floor of the mental institution, where her brother was currently at.

"The Hinata House." Creepy that it matched her last name.

Natsumi walked up to the secretary who ran the front desk, a kind woman in her early twenties. "Can I visit room 168 again?" she asked her. The woman had a fresh look to her, a sure sign that she was recently hired, probably around the time Natsumi had started visiting.

When the woman glanced up at Natsumi, the decorative bells secured in her light pigtails jingled. "Hi, Miss Hinata. Visitors normally aren't allowed during this time, but I suppose since it's Fuyuki's birthday, I can make an exception. He's a nice kid." The woman smiled trying to find the room key on her various key rings. "Can I examine what you're bringing in?"

Natsumi frowned and pulled the cake-bag closer to her body, taking a step back.

"Sorry, it's one of our rules," explained the woman with a sympathetic smile. "We don't want anything that can hurt patients, after all."

Once more, Natsumi frowned. She had hoped, since the person who ran the front desk was new and inexperienced, that she might forget the rule. Then again, it only made sense, what with all the druggies they had admitted in. Sighing, Natsumi ceded the cake.

"Hmmm…. Let me look that up in my book…." The secretary opened her notebook, a master-list of all the patients, and inspected the names and information of the patients in room 168, presumably just to make sure none of them had any food-related problems. She smiled and snapped the book closed. "Should be okay."

"All right. That's all that I brought," Natsumi lied.

The secretary gave a tough scolding smile. "I can see the second bag your carrying, Miss Hinata."

"I…. I like your pigtails…." Natsumi's eyes darted all around the room.

"Thank you, I recently had my hair dyed." The secretary leaned the edge of her cheek against her hand. "But that's not going to get me to not look at your bag."

"Fine…." Natsumi grudgingly handed over the bag containing Fuyuki's occult magazine. It only took a few seconds for the secretary to look into her book and frown.

"You know I can't let you give this to him, Miss Hinata," she told her.

"B-but it's his birthday…. And he asked for it…." Natsumi knew her voice was giving out a whimper instead of a calm and persuasive tone. She just wanted Fuyuki to be happy.

"Look, I'm not a doctor or a therapist, I'm only a secretary who works with visitors and mail. But you can't keep babying him and giving into him." She looked her in the eye. "It's only going to make things worse."

"I'll stop right after this. It's just—he _really_ wants this," Natsumi pleaded.

The secretary let out a sigh. "Look, you know why you can't give this to him, right? It's related to his condition, the reason he's here."

"I know…." Natsumi swallowed.

"Do you know why he can't see anything occult-related?" the secretary asked.

"Of course I do!" Natsumi answered defiant. _I know better than anyone does. I know more about Fuyuki than any of his stupid therapists ever will. And that's why I know that he needs to be happy. Because I'm his older sister, the one who's supposed to protect him from bad things happening._

"Could you say why he can't have it?" asked the secretary, trying to be helpful and calm.

"Why? I already know. We both know. I'm just asking you to please bend the rules, just this once," she begged.

"Miss Hinata." The secretary now had an impatient look on her face.

"Why do I have to say it?" Natsumi asked weakly. She hated aliens, she really did, but something about admitting things just felt wrong.

"It's a trick to get patients to face the truth," the secretary explained. "I've heard it helps."

Natsumi frowned. "You're not a therapist, how would you know?"

"Ms. Pururu told me that tip, and she is a therapist, unlike me," said the secretary. "Please, Natsumi, just say why Fuyuki can't have the book. Say it out loud."

Natsumi sighed and took a deep breath. She hated talking about Fuyuki's condition, even with doctors or people she trusted like this secretary Meruru. Maybe that was just Fuyuki brushing off on her and making her not want to face things. Maybe it was her way of desperately clinging onto a normal life. Whatever it was, one thing was for certain: Meruru was right. Natsumi had to say it and face these things.

"Because…" She took another breath. "…it feeds into his delusions and this false reality he's created about his life."


	3. Empty Rooms

**All right. 3rd chapter written by runwithscissorsXXXbattlescars. Not much to say here. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not even my own room. I have to share that with my sisters.**

* * *

The secretary Meruru reached her hand forward, and Natsumi gave her _Occult Monthly_ with nothing more than a small sigh.

"Thank you, Natsumi," said Meruru in a calm voice. She leaned back into her office chair. "You may now visit Room 168." Her lips curled into a slight smile. "Wish your brother a happy birthday for me, will you?"

Natsumi nodded, not daring to say another word after what she'd confided to the woman. Instead she gripped the handles of the pink bag holding the cake and walked off into the dark hallways.

Through the windows, she could see the sky seeping into gentle shades of orange and yellow, brightening the underside of clouds with golden hues. Off in the distance, just above the trees, the blue sky faded out and slipped away. Evening was approaching. There would be just enough time to catch Fuyuki at dinner, which was 6:00 to 7:15 so any announcements could be squeezed into the time slot.

Natsumi hoped Fuyuki would enjoy the cake. It was vanilla, his favorite. Fuyuki wasn't as big on sweets as his older sister; he was more of a fan of the plain and classic flavors than anything really fancy or too out-of-the-ordinary. It probably wouldn't do much to take his mind off the magazine, but there wasn't anything Natsumi could do about it, even though Fuyuki wouldn't like it.

Meruru was right. It would only add fuel to the flames. Likewise, that had been Natsumi's thought behind the lie she told earlier that morning. She would just have to explain to Fuyuki, on the chance that he would ask where the magazine was… which was an unfortunately rather high chance.

The patient rooms were numbered starting at 100 on the first floor, and Natsumi kept her eyes peeled for that familiar "168" that belonged to her brother. All patients were kept on Floor 1, except for the really dangerous and difficult cases, who were on Floor 2 along with therapy rooms and staff offices. Floor 3 was for hospital/sick rooms and doctors. Natsumi was always a bit confused by this since it looked from the outside like there ought to be four floors, not three, but at some point she reasoned that the fourth floor must have been used for storage or something.

Natsumi passed door after door, all leading to rooms belonging to patients who weren't her brother. A few months ago, when Fuyuki had recently been admitted, she used to wonder to herself why there were so many young people with mental problems. She used to think that these kind of issues should have been rarer, and so why did so many kids fall victim to them? Now she walked past these doors like she'd seen it all. There were no more surprises after all that she'd been through.

She passed Room 115, a place that looked just as messy as Fuyuki's. She passed Room 120, where a crowd of people were stuffed in, looking like they were partying. Natsumi didn't know if that was allowed but she decided not to say anything. She passed Room 129, from which a foul odor seeped out that smelled like a mixture of weed and methane. She passed the room next to it, Room 130, and felt a chill travel up her spine.

She'd seen it all. There were no more surprises after all that she'd been through. But whenever she saw a patient her age, she couldn't help but feel disturbed. Room 130, she knew, belonged to that girl with the black ponytail and an adventurous look in her green eyes. It always disturbed her to see that normal-looking girl, _her_ age, here in a mental institution. She seemed so out of place at the Hinata House, until Natsumi had learned from another patient that when she was a kid, she ran away when from her parents to join a gang, but the Hinata House caught her and now it was trying to reintegrate her into society.

_But don't they know,_ thought Natsumi, _don't they know that when she leaves, who will be waiting for her? She has no one. Her parents probably don't want her, or don't know where she is anymore, or they're probably gone already, just like… just like…._

She decided to stop thinking about the patients that felt too close to home. In a place literally named the Hinata House, she had mastered ignoring those kinds of familiarities.

Eventually Natsumi passed Room 150, and the cafeteria opened up around her, but she walked past. She wasn't sure if Fuyuki was in there and so she figured that she might as well check to see if he was still in his room, because it was only 5:59. After walking past another thirty-eight rooms, Natsumi finally reached her brother's. When she opened the door, no one was inside. The cluttered mess on the floor made it look like a robbery had been committed, something that she wouldn't have had a problem believing, what with all the kleptomaniacs and criminals in the Hinata House with a record of thievery in tow. What would be more believable, however, was if Fuyuki's dumb roommate _was_ the thief.

Natsumi checked her watch, and saw that it was now 6:00. She shut the door and backtracked to the cafeteria, where Fuyuki most likely was. She started looking around but couldn't spot her brother. The cafeteria during the evening was always way too crowded, because all three floors had to come down to have dinner together, unlike the other meals, where the groups ate separately.

She had become accustomed to all the diverse faces, people, and ages that were seated at each table, though it had shocked her in the beginning. Now it was just common knowledge to her that any youth could end up here, whether twelve years old or twenty-five.

Natsumi weaved through the crowd of patients, searching for the table that Fuyuki normally sat at. After so many weekends of visiting him she'd gotten memorized his whereabouts at mealtimes, since those were the hours that visitors were normally allowed.

"Sis!" someone called from behind her. Natsumi looked around, but then gave up after a moment. It sounded like Fuyuki had called her, but really anyone's older sister could have been visiting.

"Sis!" the voice called again. No, it definitely sounded like Fuyuki. Natsumi turned around and saw her brother standing before her, looking overjoyed that she came back.

"Fuyuki." Natsumi threw her arms around him, being careful not to swing the cake onto his back and crush the frail boy. She pulled apart and presented him with the cake from the pink bag. "Look what I got! Vanilla, your favorite."

"Cool!" Fuyuki took the cake delightedly in its round plastic box. "It looks yummy. Can we go eat it now—"

Natsumi cut him off. "No cake until you finish your dinner." She gave him a stern look, though there was playfulness in her eyes.

Natsumi followed him to his usual table, where Fuyuki always sat with his friend, roommate, and his roommate's two friends (Natsumi preferred the term "lackeys").

"Ooh! A cake!" The youngest boy at their table, a red-head in dark blue clothing, made a dive for the sweet, but Natsumi brought her hand down on his head and pushed him down onto the table, his jaw meeting the hard wood.

"No cake for you, Tamama. That's Fuyuki's."

"Aw, it's okay, Sis," Fuyuki said with a dismissive laugh. "He can have some." Fuyuki sat down and placed the cake in the middle of the table. Tamama was still rubbing his jaw from the impact, but his eyes shone at Fuyuki's words.

Natsumi left momentarily to get some food. In a short while when she came back, Fuyuki's friends were already engaged in excited chatter about the cake. She took a seat next to her brother, as far away from Fuyuki's weird friends as she could possibly get. When she was comfortable, she began to dig in, forgetting all the stress from that day.

"So, did you get the magazine?" asked Fuyuki.

Natsumi paused just as she was about to take another bite of her food. She put her food down and became very silent, until she said, "I…. I'm sorry, Fuyuki. The secretary at the front desk won't allow…. Won't allow magazines like that." She dared to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"Oh." Fuyuki looked downward. He tried to hide it, but Natsumi could feel his disappointment. "That's all right. I liked the other books you got me. I can probably just catch up on the issue later."

_Right. Later,_ thought Natsumi. _When is "later?"_

"No, I really am sor—"

"What was that secretary lady's name…" he tried to remember, "…Meruru? Oh, yeah, she's the mail Keronian, isn't she?"

Natsumi fell silent. She had hoped that Fuyuki wouldn't start talking about aliens over dinner, but when he started, trying to get him to stop was inevitable.

Across the circular table, Fuyuki's roommate covered his mouth and laughed. "Keronians? What is _this_ one—"

"Shut up, stupid frog," Natsumi snapped at him.

This time Fuyuki laughed, but his laughs always sounded so forgiving, instead of his roommate Keroro's teasing, manipulative ones.

"You should know, Sarge. You're a Keronian, too."

"Uhhh, I guess I just forgot or something." Keroro watched his words under Natsumi's harsh gaze and casually resumed his eating. Natsumi was good at giving harsh looks, even as someone as dumb as Keroro who always wore his dumb green frog hoodie. Probably to try to make himself look younger than he actually is, Natsumi always thought. And oh, did she _wish_ he was younger than he actually was. Personally, she never really liked the idea of her brother having to room with a guy in his early twenties.

When all of them finished their dinner, Natsumi took off the plastic covering from the cake. Then she picked up one of the plastic knives from the table and began to cut. It was a difficult task, since the plastic knife was so dull. All of the knives had to be, or else they wouldn't fit safety codes. She dished out slices to Fuyuki, making sure that his was the biggest, then to Keroro, Tamama, Fuyuki's friend Momoka, and Keroro's other friend who didn't really talk much, Mois.

"Wow! This is really yummy!" said Tamama, taking a huge bite out of the cake with his fork.

"Tamama!" Natsumi scolded. "Wait for Fuyuki."

"It's all right," said Fuyuki with another of his forgiving laughs. He took a bite himself and smiled. "It's really good. Thanks, Sis." He swallowed his piece of cake. Natsumi frowned, but giggled a little at Fuyuki's childish behavior. "This has been a great birthday."

Fuyuki turned to Keroro and Tamama. "And thank you guys, too, for your platoon not invading on my birthday. It means a lot to Sis and me."

"Uh… sure," said Keroro. He exchanged an uncertain glance with Tamama.

Natsumi smiled. It was so painful to see her brother like this, but for once, she was glad that he at least thought that he was happy. _Maybe things are okay after all,_ she thought. _Maybe they don't have to be so painful. There's going to be no more pain today. No more crying, just smiles and laughter. Maybe I can do that for him. Maybe they're actually getting better._

_So maybe Fuyuki can get better, too._

"Oh, and Sis?" Fuyuki turned to Natsumi with a smile on his face. "Can you call Mom and say hi to her for me? I know she's really busy at work so she can't come home right now, but—"

Natsumi stood up, knocking her chair over.

"…Sis?"

"I—I will, Fuyuki." Natsumi struggled to look down at her brother. Her eyes were blinking rapidly, but she managed a smile just like his own. She checked right wrist. Her watch was on the other one, but she didn't care. "It's been an hour. I've got to leave. To—To call Mom right away. And she's going to wish you a happy birthday. Okay?"

"Sis!" Fuyuki called, but Natsumi was already weaving past the waves of patients coming through.

Natsumi promised herself that she wouldn't cry today. But as she ran out of the cafeteria and through the halls, she broke that promise. Along the way, she bumped into a tall, muscular man making his way through the halls, and they both fell to the floor.

"Watch where you're going!" Natsumi snapped at him.

The man stood up, and Natsumi realized that he was much taller and much more muscular than she had thought at first. There were scars all over his body, except for his face, which was completely unmarred. Across his right arm was a decorative dragon tattoo. As if it made him look any tougher.

Dragon man picked up Natsumi and pushed her against the wall, staring at her with a look of fury in his eyes.

"No, _you_ watch where _you're_ going." His voice was stern, but it sounded calm. He tightened his grip on her shoulder. "Don't you _dare_ tell _me_ what to do."

Natsumi didn't buy into his act. She brought her foot up and kicked him in the side of the head, sending him right back onto the ground. He shouted and yelled, getting to his feet to chase after her, but Natsumi was running down the halls by that point.

_Thanks, dragon guy,_ thought Natsumi, _for taking my mind off of that._

In only a few seconds she lost the man, and Natsumi exited through the doors of the Hinata House.

* * *

**Please review if you could.**


	4. The Platoon's Secret Plot

**Fourth chapter. I wrote this one. Sis edited it now I wonder if it resembles even the slightest bit of what the original content was and what I wrote.**

**Anyway, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...I don't know what else to say.**

* * *

The day after Fuyuki's birthday was sort of a downer after the celebration and birthday wishes that had occurred the previous day.

Fuyuki woke up early just as the alarm clock in his room had rung loudly, forcing him to totter out of bed. He wanted to sleep longer and stay curled under his nice, warm blankets, but the alarm just kept blaring in his ears.

_You'd have to be an expert to sleep through that,_ he thought to himself with a yawn. He walked over to the wall to turn it off, then climbed back onto his bed. He didn't remember installing his alarm clock into the wall, but it must have just been one of those things that happened, just like Keroro—or the Sarge, as he much rather called him—moving into his room.

Keroro yawned grumpily. "I hate that thing. I wish for once I could sleep longer than 7 am."

"I wish you could, too," said Fuyuki. "But I'm sure Sis would much rather have you awake so you can get an early start on your chores. Unless it's her day to clean. Is it?" He rolled over on his bed and peered at him.

"I sure hope so. Your sister's a bit of a jerk." Keroro made a face. He wobbled over to the dresser to do his morning rituals and grab some clothes, yawning and stretching.

Fuyuki moved to a sitting position at the edge of his bed. "Why do you need those?"

Keroro looked at him with an odd look. "Why do I need clothes?" He puzzled over the weirdness of that statement.

"Yeah. I mean, you usually don't _wear_ them," answered Fuyuki rather honestly.

Keroro swallowed. "Is…. Is that what you imagine me like?"

"That _is_ what you're like."

"I still have Gundam, though… right?" he asked

"Of course you do! Is something wrong, Sarge? I mean you'd never question whether you have Gundam or not…." Fuyuki's eyebrows drew together.

"Nah, everything's fine. As long as I have Gundam, I don't care if you imagine me naked, honestly," Keroro told him. He had just finished getting ready. "I'm going on ahead." Before Fuyuki could say anything else, Keroro opened the door to their room and left.

Fuyuki really hoped Keroro wasn't going on ahead to do anything invasion-related. Natsumi would _so_ beat him up if this plan failed.

After getting ready himself and putting on his clothes, Fuyuki rushed out of his room to look for his roommate and best friend. He found him sitting in a chair with a blood pressure cuff around his arm, surrounded by doctors in lab coats.

Fuyuki felt fear rush into his veins. "Wh-what are you doing to him?" It had finally happened. The men in black had breached his house. They were going to dissect Keroro and take him away from Fuyuki. Without thinking anything through, Fuyuki lunged at one of the doctors as if he was going to head-butt him. The doctor easily stopped Fuyuki, as if predicting his every move… as if they had been through this routine several times.

"It's all right, Hinata," the doctor told him in a soothing voice. "We've been living here a while, remember?"

Fuyuki didn't seem to believe the doctor, and he frowned. "You're lying."

"No. No, I'm not. Your house…" The doctor thought for a moment. "…has been enlarged, remember? And Mr. Verde—I mean, _Keroro_ has been sick and we doctors exist to help the sick, so we were enlisted to help him get better."

"You're sick, Sarge?" Fuyuki asked with concerned. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You're sick too, Hinata." The doctor tried to get into the conversation, but Fuyuki just wouldn't listen.

"Why are humans helping an alien?" Fuyuki asked. His heart was pounding. "You're not trying to dissect him, are you?"

"Of course we wouldn't try to dissect him!" said the doctor. "We're… a special group of humans. We're a group that's only here to help. We're a group you can count on and trust."

"Promise that you'll never hurt him." Fuyuki clenched his fist. Instead of donning a childish demeanor, he took the diplomatic approach. "Promise that you'll never hurt any aliens."

"We would never hurt any aliens," the doctor assured him. He recorded something in a notebook and then took the cuff off of Keroro's arm. "And of course we'd never hurt Keroro. We just want to help him get better."

"How sick…. How sick is the Sarge?" Fuyuki asked

"Well we don't know how to tell you this, Hinata…" The doctor sounded awfully hesitant. "…but your friend has quite a hoarding problem."

"Hey!" Keroro yelled. He jerked his arm slightly, which the doctor had to hold down so he could insert a needle for a blood draw. "I thought that was confidential information!"

Fuyuki laughed. "I already knew that, Sarge. It's pretty obvious. And that's not really that sick."

"It is. It's mentally sick. And we're doctors that heal mental sickness. Now, would you please step onto the scale so we can take your weight?" the doctor instructed. "We want to make sure you're as healthy as possible too."

"…All right," Fuyuki finally agreed. He felt he was a pretty good judge of character and could sense no hostility from the doctor.

As Fuyuki weighed himself, the doctor turned to a coworker at his side and dropped to a whisper. "He does this every morning. I suspect he's so tired because it's morning that he forgets that we've already had this conversation 27 other times." The other doctor made a quiet 'oh' sound and resumed his work, showing little interest. Things get to a point where one's seen it dozens of times before.

* * *

After taking his pills as the doctors had instructed him, Fuyuki headed to the dining hall for breakfast. Keroro had already gone ahead and was now sitting down with some toast and unhealthy cereal at his place.

Fuyuki sat down next to him along with Tamama on the other side of Keroro, who was always the first one at breakfast. He usually had two plates of food because he always found someone else's to nab.

"Good to see you, Tamama," Fuyuki smiled. He felt a lot safer near all the doctors everywhere, now that it wasn't just Keroro and him. Fuyuki then dropped to a small whisper next to Keroro, "Are all these doctors really safe? I mean, they're _Pokopenians_. Do you really trust them?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do. They're nice people." Keroro ate his breakfast calmly, without choosing to comment on the offensive slur his friend liked to use in place of the word "humans."

"All right…" Fuyuki sighed. If the _Sarge_ trusted them, then they definitely could be trusted, especially if they were humans.

Keroro glanced over at Tamama hand trying to steal away his second slice of toast and asked, "Do you really need that much food?" Keroro slapped the hand away and devoured the toast before any other hands could come to grab it.

"Sorry, Mr. Sergeant." Tamama apologized and gave Keroro adorable puppy-dog eyes.

Hearing the nickname, Keroro made a face. "Tamama, you too? I thought only Fuyuki liked that nickname."

"Yeah, but it sounds cool so I started using it. Don't you like it, _Mr. Sergeant?_" Tamama said in an awfully flirtatious tone.

For some reason, Fuyuki could have sworn that it looked like a shiver went through his friend's back. It certainly looked like that on Keroro's face. Not that he could blame him, since a shiver went through Fuyuki's back as well when he saw Tamama talk that way with their friend. Fuyuki shook it off. He probably read it all wrong and there was no flirtation going on between the two.

Fuyuki cleared his throat. "So, Sarge… did you seek help from these doctors about your hoarding problem, or did they find you all on their own?"

"Hoarding problem?" Tamama looked at Keroro and then at Fuyuki. "But…. But I thought you came here because of some trauma cuz you couldn't save an orphan in a fire? Or…" He tapped his chin. "…was it that you were wounded mentally when a bunch of kittens in a tree drowned after you saved them? I don't really know…. Your story's kind of inconsistent, to be honest…." Tamama scratched his head, thinking about it longer.

"Uhhhh…." Keroro went into a period of awkward silence. "You know what? You can have some of my breakfast. You want the rest of my cereal? It's unnecessarily sugared," he offered

"Oh boy!" Tamama didn't question any further and just grabbed the bowl, hungrily devouring the contents as if his stomach was a black hole.

Keroro quickly made his escape from the cafeteria so as not to be questioned about his hoarding problem.

"You know what?" Fuyuki spoke out loud. "I'm starting to think that maybe the doctors are right and the Sarge really does need help."

* * *

After breakfast, Tamama and Fuyuki exited the dining hall and walked up the stairs to Floor 2. Tamama led Fuyuki to an open room with lots of couch cushions and sofas. The room had a certain serenity to it; perhaps it was the dim lights offset by bright colors decorating the wall. In comfortable-looking chairs, Fuyuki spotted Keroro, Keroro's white-haired friend, a dark-haired girl his sister's age, and two men about Keroro's age, both as far away from him as they could be. In the center of the room sat Pururu in her Ahotoron form.

Fuyuki would have questioned why they didn't go down to the base for a meeting, but lately the platoon had been meeting upstairs with Pururu there to aid them. Nowadays it seemed she was always there to help with health concerns and make sure that they were in top condition for their invasion.

Pururu smiled, her lips and eyes eradiating with kindness. "Ah, thank you, Tamama, you brought Fuyuki."

Tamama crossed his hands behind his head. "It was no problem."

Looking around the room, Pururu checked off some things on her clipboard. "All right, then…. Tamama's here, Keroro's here, Fuyuki's here, Dororo's here, Koyuki's here, Mois's here, Giroro's here…."

"Even though I really don't want to be," Giroro remarked gruffly.

"I know, but I'm so proud of you for coming anyway!" Pururu sounded perky and nice as always.

He turned his head off to the side, and Fuyuki could have sworn he heard him mumble under his breath, "I don't need your fake praise."

"Did Pururu and the Corporal have a fight?" Fuyuki whispered to Keroro while Pururu handed out some slips of paper.

"Well…. Kind of…." Keroro easily recognized who Fuyuki was talking about. "Giroro, to be honest… doesn't really like anyone." Keroro looked down for a moment. "Not even me."

"He likes Sis, though," said Fuyuki as Pururu gave him his slip of paper.

"He hasn't even met your sister, but if he did, I agree—they'd probably be two peas in the same pod." Keroro pointed at the paper slip. "By the way, you're supposed to fill that out."

"Oh," said Fuyuki. He read the paper, and then circled all the "no" slots for whether he had hallucinated yet today, heard anything, or felt the need to hurt anyone.

"It's important to tell the doctors of your progress and how you're feeling." Keroro leaned back in his chair and handed his paper to the white-haired girl next to him. "Could you finish this for me, Mois?"

Mois, instead of filling out her own slip of paper, had been instead sleeping on one of the couches.

"Sure, Uncle." She nodded cheerily, clearly quite sleepy still, and took Keroro's mental health paper in her hand to finish it for him.

"Uncle?" Keroro made a face. "What's with all these weird nicknames…? You haven't been listening to Fuyuki's stories, too, have you?"

Mois responded with a yawn.

She was always sleepy, Fuyuki consistently observed. Always snoozing during the day, sometimes during the activities. The doctors would probably say she was another of those narcoleptic case.

"Now… who wants to start our circle with how they've felt since we last checked in?" Pururu asked to get the ball rolling. "You can even start by telling everybody what you dreamed last night, and the group can examine it."

The pink-haired man sitting near the corner of the room by the other girl raised his hand. "I would be very honored to start if you would give me the chance…" he spoke. "I've been having a wonderful day. I watered my plants and pondered the mysteries and the wonders of the universe. And then I thought about animals." He finished with a softhearted smile.

"That's wonderful, Dororo! You always want to stay positive!" Pururu complimented. Dororo looked proud, until she asked the question, "…Did you take anymore of it?"

"Anymore of what, Pururu?" Dororo asked

"…You know what…." She tried to be gentle on the subject.

"Of course I did. It helps free the mind and brings your spirit away from the earth itself and to the heavens beyond, all while being in one room." Dororo smiled again. "I love everyone." He plopped back onto the couch, sprawling his arms out in a sort of free-spirit-like manner.

"And Koyuki? How are you feeling?" Pururu asked

The dark-haired girl next to Dororo, Koyuki, drew her knees up close to her chest and turned her head away. "I'd honestly feel a lot better if I could go outside instead of being confined here."

"You will be able to get outside. But you just have to learn a bit more about normal society. You'll be free soon enough, I promise," said Pururu. "And you're not being confined. You're here for help. Like in a school."

"This is no school," Tamama piped in with a frown. "I've barely even _been_ to a school, and I know the difference."

"Oh no…. Tamama, please no…. We can't have anymore damages here…" Pururu begged, trying to calm him down.

"SHUT UP, LADY!" Tamama's voice changed drastically, and he opened his mouth wide. "TAMAMA IMPACT!" From out of his mouth blasted a yellow-white energy at the wall. Tamama shut his mouth and giggled cutely, as though nothing had happened.

Pururu covered her head and sighed. "Why do I even try? This happens every day, anyway…."

"Do you want me to go next, Pururu?" asked Keroro. He seemed a little eager to please.

She looked tired after the near explosion, but she waved him on. "Sure. Go ahead."

"I dreamed about Gundam, and then had a fine morning afterward," he told them all.

"That's…" Pururu didn't know what word to attach to her idea of it. "…wonderful."

Keroro beamed.

"Fuyuki? Mois? Giroro? Who wants to go next?"

Giroro looked to the side, obviously not wanting to talk. "Pass."

"Giroro you can't pass every morning. We have to talk about your dreams and day—"

"I said _pass_." He growled at her, sounding peeved.

Pururu squeaked and stopped questioning him. She looked over at Mois but the young girl had already fallen back to sleep.

"I really need to see the doctors about her narcoleptic problem…" Pururu sighed and rubbed her eye, messing up her bangs a little, but she did nothing to fix it. Either she didn't care, or she didn't notice. "Fuyuki? How are you feeling?"

"Fine. As long as you guys don't invade today, I shouldn't have too much trouble. Are you here to help with the invasion or just help with everyone's health?" he asked

"I'm a nurse. I'm here to help with everyone's health," she told him.

Fuyuki laughed. "That's good, cuz I wouldn't want Sis being as mad at you as she is at Sarge."

Pururu looked at him a bit oddly, but all she said was a sigh.

"All right…. Let's move on to the next part…."

* * *

Pururu's group therapy session went well, aside from Giroro's anger and Mois sleeping through the whole thing.

Fuyuki wondered briefly why humans like Koyuki and himself were there, but he decided eventually that he was just happy to be able to observe all these alien rituals. So he piped down regarding why he was allowed to be there.

Eventually Pururu led the group to another room for some sort of creative study and left them all alone.

Fuyuki recognized the room instantly. This was the room that he met with Momoka in every day. "It's time for the Occult Club, isn't it?"

"It _would_ be, but it's Saturday. Remember? Momoka won't be here today or tomorrow," Keroro reminded him. Fuyuki face-palmed.

"Geez! I feel stupid! How could I forget something so important as what day it is?" He laughed somewhat nervously, then sat down to help Keroro build some Gundam.

After all, for some reason he could find no occult books to read instead.

* * *

11 o'clock was something called individual therapy. Fuyuki wasn't quite sure why he needed that or why that was scheduled into his day, but they made him go, anyway.

He entered a small room, still on the second floor, and saw an older-looking black-haired man sitting in front of him, marking some papers. Fuyuki looked down and saw that he was just doodling instead of writing down anything important. The doodle looked almost like a duck, but it was even worse than Giroro's art style.

The man stiffened when he saw Fuyuki, and put the papers away to greet him—but Fuyuki beat him to it.

"Lieutenant Garuru?" he asked, concerned. "Why are you here? You're not mad at me for stopping the invasion too many times… are you?" Garuru was a strong Keronian, and Fuyuki knew he'd have to stand his ground if Garuru tried to attack him.

"Fuyuki Hinata, this delusion about an alien invasion and me being some sort of leader of an alien platoon has got to stop. It's not healthy for your mental state and there's going to be no progress if you keep thinking like this," Garuru informed him.

_Delusion? Is convincing me that I'm wrong some sort of new trick for the invasion?_ Fuyuki looked at Garuru and noticed how un-Keronian-like he was today. Instead of possessing the froggish traits that all Keronians had, Garuru appeared to be a human just like himself, dressed in a dark purple suit a jacket, along with yellow sunglasses and a small hat. His skin was tan and his hair black… almost as if he had started wearing a robot suit just like Pururu.

"Oh! I get it!" Fuyuki smacked his fist into his palm. "The platoon is pretending to be humans or something to trick everyone into letting them invade! Well, you're not going to fool me. I'll never give into your tricks." He flashed Garuru a confident grin. But Garuru only looked frustrated.

"You're a difficult case, Fuyuki Hinata." He brought his knee underneath him and let his other leg relax. "But at least you're not as bad as _him_." There was venom on the last word as Garuru said this in a hushed tone. Fuyuki was confused, but Garuru made him sit down on the floor with him to talk about—big surprise—how he was feeling.

* * *

After the long and difficult pretty almost boring talk with Garuru, Fuyuki tiredly trudged to the dining hall for lunch.

"Hey, Sarge." Fuyuki waved to Keroro and plopped into a seat next to him, or as close as he could be, as his roommate had Tamama and Mois on either side of him.

"Tamama…. Um…. Y-you took my…." Mois paused as she looked at her empty plate of food, wondering what the best approach was to communicate with the jealous (and hungry) red-head.

"What about it?" He growled and gave her a challenging look. "I'm hungry, woman. If you don't want me to eat your food, then don't sit here."

"B-but…." She looked a bit sad. "I want to sit with Uncle! And where else am I supposed to go?"

Tamama pointed to another table with a blonde girl with tan skin that Fuyuki recognized as Asami. Oddly, they looked like two very distinct people, which in Fuyuki's mind shouldn't have happened. At Asami's table were some other people, including a brown-haired girl with glasses and an intimidating sort of man with a dragon tattoo. "You could always sit with group B."

"B-but…." Angol Mois obviously didn't want to leave Keroro's side.

"Or you could go up to floor 4." Tamama's lips slipped into a sly little grin. "I wouldn't mind you getting lost up there or broken forever."

"Floor 4?" said Fuyuki. _I don't remember my house having 4 floors._

"Floor 4 of the Hinata House." Keroro swallowed a star fruit. "Nobody knows what's up there and nobody's allowed to find out."

"No one?" Fuyuki asked.

"Well, there's been a few patients, but none of them came back," his roommate answered casually. "Oh, and I hear a bunch of rumors and stuff that doctors and therapists have actually died up there."

"You mean…." Fuyuki paused and began to shiver. Keroro placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, but Fuyuki's hands tightened into fists excitedly, his eyes sparkling. "There's a real life occult mystery in my house? That…. THAT'S SO COOL!"

Keroro sweat-dropped, along with Tamama and Mois.

* * *

Unfortunately, even though it was visiting hours, Natsumi didn't show up for lunch with Fuyuki. Fuyuki suspected it was because Natsumi was busy with work. For some reason, she was starting to act a lot like their mom, always working.

_Mom would be proud, but she'd also be sad that sis isn't enjoying her free time a little more, _Fuyuki thought to himself

Come to think of it, he hadn't seen his mother for a while. She must have been really busy with work. He wondered if he should call her up sometime and tell her about the Platoon's new plot to blend in with Pokopenians, or about the new floor in their house.

The next few hours, Fuyuki was bored out of his mind talking to another alien that sometimes visited the platoon, a guy named Bariri who kept insisting that he was Fuyuki's extra therapist. But then he started rambling about food and vegetables.

Fuyuki wasn't really listening. It would have been interesting if he talked about something more alien-like, but he mostly talked about cabbages. That and Pururu. At some points it felt like Fuyuki was the therapist, helping Bariri with all his problems, instead of the other way around.

The hour after that was the worst part of the day. Exercise. Fuyuki just huffed and wheezed as he tried to run, but it was way too hard for him.

Giroro tried to help him up a couple times and talk about how exercise wasn't too bad, but Fuyuki really didn't buy into the lies. Exercise was bad. It was the worst. When Giroro trudged away in defeat, some of the doctors came by and scolded Fuyuki for shooting down a patient's chance to feel helpful to someone.

After all of Fuyuki's limbs were aching, he tiredly went to another room on the second floor, one where he was told to meet Pururu again for another appointment.

_Today's been a bit weird…. Actually, this whole WEEK has been a bit weird. It's like everybody's shied away when I mentioned aliens… and scolded me for it,_ he thought to himself.

In front of their therapist, he sat next to Mois in a chair. He wasn't sure what would happen now.

"I'm glad you could make it Fuyuki," said Pururu with a smile. "This group is really important to talk about your delusions."

"Why does everybody keep using that word?" he said.

"I don't really know, honestly," Mois agreed.

Fuyuki turned to her as if she was a light in a dark tunnel. "You mean you aren't going to use it? You aren't going to suddenly stop talking or drop the subject when I mention aliens?"

"Of course not. After all, aliens do exist. But nobody will listen to me when I tell them when I am one." She thought to herself a moment, then lifted a finger by her chin. "You could say, silent treatment?"

Fuyuki could hear bells ringing in his head as he realized this was the most sane person he'd talked to that day. Weird enough that it had to be Mois, the narcoleptic.

"So, you mean, you're not going to pretend you aren't an alien? The—The Lord of Terror, _Angol Mois_, from Nostradamus's prophecy?" Fuyuki asked

"No! I would never pretend not to be! I'm an Angolian through and through," she insisted with pride. "You're not wrong."

"Guys. Guys!" Pururu interrupted. "We formed this group so you could get better, not feed into each other's delusions. Okay?"

Mois didn't seem too pleased with Pururu's remark.

"Look, the fact of the matter is, aliens haven't been proven to exist… uh… yet. And you, Mois, are not an 'Angolian,' " Pururu spoke to her. "Nor are you the Lord of Terror. You're just a confused young girl."

"I've cracked hundreds of planets in half," Mois affirmed. There was lots of certainty in her voice.

"Hundreds? Really?" Fuyuki asked. Before Mois had a chance to nod, Pururu glared at her.

"Look… this therapy session is about trying to find the roots of what caused your delusions…. _Not_ to talk about your fantasies. We thought you'd both do a lot better together than working with the two of you apart, since you had very similar problems," said Pururu.

Fuyuki caught Mois mumble under her breath, "If I had my Lucifer Spear…."

"Well you don't," their therapist reminded her. "I'm sorry. We have a strict _no cell phone_ policy." She clasped her hands together. "Now, who wants to talk about your first contact with your delusions or fantasies?"

Fuyuki raised his hand.

"Sis was waking me up one day…"

* * *

Fuyuki felt that Pururu was a bit frustrated on the group therapy session not going anywhere. He had liked it, though. Mois seemed to be the only one who was acting like her usual self, except for something Fuyuki noticed—this odd, intense dislike of Pururu. Had that always been there? It probably had, and he just hadn't paid as much attention to Angol Mois as he should have. He felt sort of bad.

He and Mois began to head off to dinner together. Halfway through the hall, Angol Mois yawned and stretched her arms. "I'm going to go head off back to bed now."

"But you haven't eaten all day…" he pointed out.

"We Angolians don't need as much food as Pekoponians. Instead we need twenty hours of sleep. You could say, sleepy as a seal?" She skipped off to room 130, then added over her shoulder, "Say hi to Uncle for me!"

_Well, if that's what's best for her species then I'm sure that's all right, _Fuyuki thought to himself. He entered the dining hall again for his meal.

To his happiness, Natsumi was indeed there waiting for him.

"Hey, Fuyuki." She smiled and waved to him.

"Sis!" Fuyuki gave her a brief hug and sat down by her side. "You know… today's been a bit weird…. I mean, the Sarge is fine and all, but Pururu and Garuru keep talking about how there's no invasion and how I have delusions or something." He narrowed his eyes. "I think the Keronians are having another invasion plan and have enlisted the help of the Garuru Platoon!"

"Mm-hm…. I see…" Natsumi smiled and nodded a bit awkwardly at Fuyuki's theory.

"What are we going to do?" he asked.

"Um… uh… work with them?" she tried. "You have to listen to what Garuru and Pururu say, all right?"

Fuyuki's mouth fell open.

_Sis would never want me to hand the planet to aliens! She'd never want me to work with them…. But… maybe she wants me to pretend to work with them and go undercover so I can figure out their plan. Yeah. Sarge is listening, and so that's why she said that!_ he deciphered.

Fuyuki nodded. "All right, Sis."

"Really?" Natsumi seemed a bit shocked, surprised, and looking as if she was in a state of joy. "You're really ready to listen to them this time?"

"I'll do what you say, Sis." Fuyuki had to lie so that none of the frogs would know his and Natsumi's plan.

His sister hugged him and buried her face in his hair.

"I'm so glad…. I didn't want to lose another person…. I didn't want you to be away forever…." She seemed to be crying a bit.

Fuyuki didn't understand why his sister was crying. Maybe it was because their dad had left a few years ago to pursue his research, but that didn't have a very huge amount of lasting damage on Natsumi. For Fuyuki, it had sparked an interest in the occult. But… maybe his sister wasn't as strong as he thought she was. That day, he learned yet another thing about her and saw through her tough exterior, just as he had learned on her birthday, when everyone gave her a surprise party.

Fuyuki hugged his sister back, more for her than for him.

* * *

After Natsumi had left, Fuyuki had to do some more doctors exams before he could prepare for sleep. Once he finished all that, he plopped himself into his bed, adjacent to Keroro's.

"It's been a tiring day, hasn't it, Sarge?" Fuyuki asked with a yawn.

"Yeah," Keroro agreed.

"Kind of weird, too."

"You think it was a weird day?"

"Yeah." Fuyuki rolled over onto his belly and folded his arms underneath his chin. "I mean, Garuru and Pururu kept insisting you guys aren't invading." He shook his head. "I never saw Garuru for such a liar type."

Keroro was wise and said nothing.

"Sarge? Was what he said true? Have you given up the invasion?" Fuyuki asked him.

"If I was invading, I don't think I'd just give up," he answered.

"Have you ever invaded anything? Can you tell me a story about any other planets you've gone too?"

"Sure." Keroro shrugged. He loved having excuses to tell elaborate stories about himself being a hero, and if he could also help Fuyuki get to bed and ease his uncertain mind on the side, he'd love to.

"Let me tell you about the time I beat this commander of this one race… we'll call it _Viper_… single-handedly," he began.

Fuyuki closed his eyes and let himself relax as Keroro's story took place in his mind, making him feel like everything was right once again.

* * *

**Please review, for my beautiful child the cabbage.**


	5. The Healing Room

**Written by runwithscissors. Anyway here's the next chapter. I'll try to write mine tomorrow.**

**Toodles.**

* * *

"You know, my house is getting stranger and stranger…. Have those guys in white lab coats always been there?"

Fuyuki looked to Keroro for an answer, sucking thoughtfully on his eating utensil. After he'd finished his breakfast, he started noticing more and more weird things around him, like the men dressed in white. They looked a bit like the doctors, except their uniforms were a bit different and they were kind of acting strange.

"Yes…." Keroro drew out the consonants of the word, sounding rather unsure. He gave Fuyuki a nod and said it again. "Yes."

"Oh." Fuyuki put down his utensil. "Okay."

Men in black were one thing, but men in white? That was something else, and Fuyuki wasn't sure what to make of it. They weren't really doing anything troublesome… just watching people observantly, jotting something down into their notebooks every now and then.

Keroro paid them no mind. He resumed his breakfast as though this were a completely normal routine. Fuyuki's hands were shaking. The more he thought about it, the more creeped out he was. Why were those men here?—In _his_ house, the Hinata House? And what on Earth were they doing?

He looked around at his other friends, to see what they would do about it, but it appeared that Tamama and Mois didn't think anything of it, either. Nor would Momoka have, if she was there, but it was a Sunday, so she wasn't.

Fuyuki sighed and leaned back in his chair. It couldn't be that these men in white were a normal occurrence. Undoubtedly they had just brainwashed everyone in the house to think that. He would have to monitor them to make sure. As his eyes scanned the room to count all the men in white that he saw, they settled on another pair of eyes—yellow eyes, that were looking around, as well.

Fuyuki sat up in his chair and squinted across the eating hall. The yellow eyes belonged to a very buff man, rather intimidating in appearance. His body had a few scars here and there, especially a really grotesque one across his right arm—no, not a scar, he realized, squinting harder, but a dragon tattoo. Fuyuki recognized the man as someone from Group B that Tamama had pointed out the day before. And weirdest of all, he was looking around the room just like Fuyuki was.

Daringly, Fuyuki pushed his seat away from their table and began walking toward the dragon-tattooed man. When he reached him, he dropped his voice to a whisper and said, "I need to talk to you."

The man looked around a bit, then pointed a finger at himself and asked, "Me?"

"Yeah."

Two of the man's friends at either side of him, a younger-looking boy and a dull-eyed teenage girl, looked at Fuyuki, then back at the man. "What are you doing?" the girl asked.

He stood up anyway, and he walked with Fuyuki behind a large square pillar opening up into the hallway. The dragon-tattooed man leaned his arm against it and looked at Fuyuki calculatingly. "So what's your problem, kid?"

Fuyuki couldn't say how many times he'd heard _that_ question this last week. Instead of letting it bother him, he narrowed his eyes and cut to the chase. "Those men in white… you seem to be the only other person who notices them. And you're bothered by them, too."

The man paused a second, as if thinking, and then rubbed his hand over his head with a small laugh. "Can't blame a guy for not liking five sets of eyes on him all the time, eh?"

"Why are they here?" asked Fuyuki. "You must know…."

Dragon-man shrugged. "Maybe they just want to make friends and don't know how." Something about his tone made it sound awfully mocking of Fuyuki. He turned around, about to head on back to his table, but Fuyuki grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back.

"Wait! You have to tell me! What if they're—"

"Fuyuki, you shouldn't be meddling with that guy," a voice interrupted.

Fuyuki let go of the man's arm, and Dragon-man rubbed it, though he didn't leave. Instead the two of them turned to the blond man behind Fuyuki. The blond man had a bag slung over his shoulder, was dressed in tight grey clothing, and looked a bit tired, like he'd just come back from a workout at the gym.

"Oh… um…."

"What? Is there something wrong with me?" Dragon-man pushed Fuyuki aside and approached the blond guy's face in a way that would have been way too close to comfort for Fuyuki. The other man might have agreed. He frowned, the scar over his left eye wrinkling as he did so. His left eye had always bothered Fuyuki. It never seemed to focus quite right, and it had a little less color than his right one.

"Please step away, Yanda. I'd like to get past you so I can shout at Fuyuki."

Fuyuki swallowed. "Umm… no, that's okay, Corporal Giroro—"

Giroro's left eye, the one with the scar, twitched. "Fuyuki, I thought I told you not to call me that."

"Call you what, _Corporal_?" asked the dragon-man, Yanda.

Giroro's hand tightened around the strap of the bag over his shoulder. "You think you're so funny, don't you."

"I'm not an entertainer, _Corporal_."

Fuyuki would have said something, seeing Giroro get so angry, but he wasn't quite sure what was the matter.

"What's the matter, _Corporal_—"

That did it; Giroro lost his patience. Like a flash of lightning, his fist planted itself square into Yanda's face, sending the man into the closest table behind him.

The cafeteria fell silent. All eyes were on Yanda as he brought himself to a feet, swayed a moment, and wiped a bit of blood from his nose before lifting his fist in the air and shouting out, "Oh-ho, yeah, _now_ we're talking!" Then the cafeteria broke into chatter.

Yanda charged at Giroro and returned the punch. Giroro staggered for a moment, but brought himself back to a strong stance as he gripped Yanda by the shoulder and laid a blow in his gut.

"Woo-hoo! Give it to him, Giroro!" Fuyuki heard Koyuki yell from the crowd of chatter.

The two men grabbed each other's shoulder and began pushing. Yanda got Giroro against the pillar for a moment until Giroro pushed his foot against it and was able to move Yanda against another table. The patients who had been using the table for eating scattered. Yanda grunted, increasing his grip on Giroro's shoulders, and lifted his knee up, which he brought into Giroro's side, forcing him down. Giroro got back to his feet just as Yanda was brushing himself off and attacked him behind, sending them both to the floor, with Giroro having Yanda in a headlock. Yanda bit down on Giroro's arm, and he was forced to release him as he let out a shout.

Fuyuki's eyes darted all around. He didn't know what he should do. Nobody else seemed to be doing anything about the fight, and instead were cheering and betting, so maybe they had it handled.

When his eyes returned to the fight, Giroro's back was against the floor and Yanda was sitting on top of him with his fist balled, about to deliver a punch, when Giroro quickly flipped himself over and Yanda tumbled off. Fuyuki winced as he heard Yanda's jaw meet the hard floor of the cafeteria. When Yanda stood up, he did not look too happy. He glared at Giroro with a look of intense fury, and for a brief second, he glared at Fuyuki. Fuyuki, knowing what was better for him and what was not, darted behind a pillar and ran off to find his table group. It wasn't that hard to find because Koyuki was nearby, and she was cheering the loudest. Fuyuki quickly found Keroro and hid behind him, but when his curiosity got the better of him, he peeked out into the fray.

Now, Giroro had Yanda's arm over his shoulder. He flung him over onto the ground, where Yanda's back met with the cafeteria floor again, and more cheering broke out. Yanda flipped up and kicked Giroro back in the chest, and the cheering grew even louder. Giroro was looking sort of dizzy at this point, and he gripped the back of his chair to gain some balance. As he did so, Yanda entered in and fastened his hands around Giroro's neck. Giroro's senses must have snapped back into place because he immediately swung his arm up and freed himself from Yanda's grasp. Yanda stumbled out to the side, but the crowd pushed him back in. He swung a punch to Giroro's left, which he should have seen and blocked, but for some reason when he tried to grab Yanda's arm, he missed and grabbed air instead, ending up with a bruise on the left side of his face.

Yanda and Giroro now had their backs to each other and had fallen closer to the edge of the crowd. At the same moment, they both swerved around. Giroro yelled in rage and lunged at Yanda, and they both charged at each other, about to beat the other one senseless.

Suddenly, a group of mature voices halted the cheers and shouts and whistles. Adults dressed in white, black, and grey all pushed there way through to the scene of the fight, led into battle by a tall woman with a sparkling look to her. Her brown hair had streaks of pink in it and was wrapped into a bun in the back of her head, and the suit she wore had a clean, crisp look to it. She tapped her high-heeled foot on the ground impatiently with her arms crossed over her chest. Authority was all about her, but Fuyuki also detected a distinct air of friendliness.

"Giroro Hae! Yanda Rechi!" the woman scolded. She frowned, and her voice was filled with disappointment toward them. "Will one of you explain _what_ is going on?"

"If I had a gun with me, I'd kill you right now," Giroro threatened Yanda. He was immediately restrained by a team of doctors who pulled him to the ground.

Yanda began to laugh at him, which only made Giroro more enraged.

"Yanda," the woman said sternly. He just kept laughing. "Yanda!" The laughter didn't stop.

Seeing that it was of no use, the woman scoffed and walked over to the table where Yanda had originally been sitting. She picked out two younger kids and forced them to stand.

"Nubibi, Yue, how about you two explain some things."

The girl, presumably Yue, crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her other leg. "I dunno, and I don't really care. It's not _our_ problem." Her voice was bored-sounding and monotonous.

"Sorry for Yanda being such a trouble, though." The boy, Nubibi, bowed in apology.

"Nubibi, I just told her it wasn't _our_ problem."

"Oops. Oh yeah. Sorry!" He grinned sheepishly.

The woman looked displeased, but that expression quickly washed off her face and her lips returned to their original smile. Her eyes searched through the crowd again until they landed on Fuyuki.

_Uh-oh_, thought Fuyuki. He drew back, but the woman kept her eyes trained on him.

"Fuyuki Hinata." She smiled more, if that was possible. "What did _you_ see happen?"

The people in front of him parted, even Keroro took a step to the side, and now all eyes were trained on Fuyuki. He swallowed. He didn't know how this lady knew his name, and he didn't know what do to.

"U-um…. They were fighting," he stated.

"Fighting." The woman nodded and looked up slightly, pondering this word. She walked back into the large circle that the parted crowd had made for her. Her eyes settled on Giroro. "And is fighting _allowed_, in the Hinata House?"

Giroro avoided her gaze, looking downward with his mismatched eyes, but she just continued pacing.

"No. According to Rule #6 in the rulebook, acts of aggression or violence are not allowed. According to Rules #7 and 8, hugging is the _only_ physical contact allowed, which must be gentle and between persons of the same gender." She swiftly swerved around to face the two men once more, looked them in the eyes, and said, "Were you two hugging, or fighting?"

Yanda guffawed at the question, though Giroro said nothing.

"Tell me, Yanda, Giroro. When was the last time either of you hugged someone else, or was the recipient of a hug?"

Now the two of them were deliberately not making eye contact with each other, though the doctors tried to use their grip on their heads to make them face the woman.

She gasped and placed her fingers to her lips. "Neither of you can remember? Well, then. Yanda, Giroro, turn to each other and exchange a hug."

"_WHAT_?!" Giroro demanded.

"Are you _crazy_?!" Yanda screamed.

The crowd in the cafeteria snickered; apparently all of them had been waiting to hear a therapist asked that question by one of her patients for once.

But the woman just crossed her arms and tapped the sole of her foot on the floor, waiting.

The doctors loosened their grips on Giroro and Yanda and awkwardly pushed the two of them together.

"Well?" She smiled and waved her hand, urging them along.

Fuyuki held in his breath. Even he felt a bit embarrassed for the two of them. The silence was heavy and eyes were anxious. For a second they moved, but did nothing. The doctors around them exacted curt nudges at their sides. Standing together like that, Giroro and Yanda looked awfully uncomfortable. They both drew away from each other and glared at the woman before them.

"No hugs?" She pouted, the edges of her lips curling downward. "All right, then. Let's try something else. Giroro, Yanda, I want you to look each other in the eyes and apologize for hurting each other."

Yanda turned to Giroro. "Sorry that you can't take defeat, man." He clutched his belly, snickering at his own joke.

Giroro raised his fist. "Don't you dare laugh at me!"

"Giroro!" the woman scolded. She took hold of his fist and lowered it. "He wasn't laughing at _you_." The crowd in the cafeteria began to snicker, as well, and Giroro's face grew red. Whether it was from humiliation or anger, Fuyuki wasn't certain, but at least it made his skin look more like how it was _supposed_ to be.

She tsk-tsked. "You know that I thought better of you than this."

"Wh-what? What do you mean?"

She turned to the doctors and said in a cheery voice, "I think that Giroro and Yanda here might need a break in the Healing Room."

"What?" Giroro's knees began to wobble. Just when it looked like he was going to collapse, doctors came by on either side of him and took hold of his arms, and then did the same for Yanda. "Wait… you—you can't do this!" he yelled. Fuyuki could hear his shouting all the way down to the end of the hallway, where it began to fade, along with Yanda's unsettling cackling.

"Hey. Um, excuse me." Fuyuki nudged a girl in front of him. "What's the 'Healing Room?' "

The girl turned around, and Fuyuki resisted the urge to jump. It was Yanda's creepy friend, Yue, the monotonous-looking girl.

"Hm? The Healing Room?" She looked at him with a bored expression. "It's where you go if you're causing trouble. And by that I mean when the doctors and therapists get fed up with you. If you're quiet and don't make a fuss then you'll never have to go there."

"Oh." That was probably why Fuyuki had never heard of the Healing Room before. He didn't remember one ever being in his house, but at this point, he had decided to just stop questioning these things. "But… why did Giroro not want to go?"

"That's the thing," said Yue. She grinned a little, the only expression he'd seen—and probably ever _would_ see—on that girl's face. "They say it's on Floor 4."

* * *

After breakfast was Collective Group Therapy, and Fuyuki's group happened to be relaying the fight in the cafeteria to Pururu. Fuyuki wasn't really listening. He couldn't get his mind off of what bothered him the most—and it wasn't the fact that the Healing Room was on Floor 4, whatever that meant.

It was the men in white. During the fight, they hadn't stepped in to intervene at all. It was only when the doctors had dragged Giroro and Yanda off that they had put down their notebooks and pens for a brief moment so they could follow them down the hallway. Something about the whole scene sent chills down Fuyuki's spine.

Giroro still wasn't back yet from the Healing Room. Fuyuki kept glancing back at his usual chair, but it was always empty. Fuyuki kept lacing his fingers and unlacing them as he sat with his elbows rested on his knees.

Even afterward, in the room where he usually had Occult Club with Momoka, he still didn't know what to make of the scene at breakfast. All the words in the books he read himself to pass the time seemed to float off the page and drift into space with their meanings. Finally he could take no more of it and he shut the book closed.

"Ah! Fuyuki, you're done with your book." Keroro turned a Gunpla toward him. "I finished another Gundam model. How does it look?"

"It's great, Sarge." Fuyuki gave him an assuring smile. "Doesn't this feel a bit strange, though?"

"What, strange that everyone is doing art projects at the same time except for you?" Keroro scratched his head. "I'm sure that it would be."

"No, I mean…" Fuyuki shelved his book away and sat up. "…everything that's been going on. I don't remember my house being so… chaotic. But… it's like… chaotic, but not, at the same time…." He furrowed his brow. "What's that word… _controlled_."

Keroro was silent for a moment, but he smiled softly. "Look, Fuyuki… it wasn't your fault that Giroro and Yanda started fighting."

"That's not really what I was talking about, Sarge."

"Giroro's always getting angry all the time because of his short temper," he continued, ignoring the boy, "and Yanda is someone everyone could deal without." He sat back and clasped his hands behind his head. "But, of course, with guys like these, you can't do anything about them once they pick a fight with you."

"…Why not?" Fuyuki asked.

"Well, for one thing, the Rechi family is really rich." He thought for a moment. "So is the Nishizawa family, then again, but with both Momoka and Yanda their families don't really want any problems. For them or _by_ them."

"Wait, what? Momoka's rich?"

"And for another thing," he went on, "I heard that Yanda's danger level is 7."

"7?" said Fuyuki. "Out of what?"

"Out of 10."

"Is he an alien?"

Keroro laughed. "No, he's just a regular human."

"You mean Pokopenian."

"Pokopenian. Fine. But 7 is super high for a danger level. Mine is 2. Yours is 0."

"He's an alien," Fuyuki decided.

Keroro opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it and kept quiet.

Fuyuki was silent for a moment, too, until another idea entered his head. "Hey, Sarge…."

"What," said Keroro with a sigh. All these nicknames were getting tiring.

"Why is the Healing Room on Floor 4? I thought nobody was allowed to go up there because no one's come back."

"Ah, so you've heard the rumor."

_From you_, Fuyuki thought.

"I don't quite know why the Healing Room's up there. I've never been to it myself, you see. But I heard that the only way you can _get_ there is by an elevator. And the only way you can be in the elevator is if you have a key or if you're being taken to the Healing Room. If you're not in the elevator because you're being taken to the Healing Room, then you probably have a key because you need to go to the hospital on Floor 3 but you're too sick to take the stairs."

Fuyuki remembered going into the third floor in the evenings for doctor appointments. It wasn't that fun, but at least it wasn't exercise.

"But sometimes," Keroro told him, "someone sick who manages to get into the elevator gets a little too curious. And they go up to Floor 4." He stopped there.

"And?" said Fuyuki.

Keroro just shrugged. "I don't know. No one who's gone there on their own has ever come back."

_There's been a few patients, but none of them came back. Doctors and therapists have actually died up there_, Fuyuki recalled from their conversation yesterday.

It seemed he was learning new things about his house ever day. Whether that was a bad thing or a good thing anymore, Fuyuki wasn't sure.

* * *

By the time Separate Therapy with Garuru rolled by, Fuyuki's mind was temporarily taken off of the events earlier that day, but as soon as lunch time came, he was back in the cafeteria and spotted the men in white again. Natsumi was there to chat with him but he didn't feel like there was much to say with all the sets of eyes on him. He told her a bit about the fight earlier that morning, and Natsumi looked a bit disappointed that she couldn't have been a part of it but at the same time thought it was dumb how boys started fighting all the time.

"Well…" Fuyuki searched for something to say something in their defense. "The Corporal's got a really short temper. And he's always getting mad because the Sarge is always slacking off on the invasion. Don't you remember?"

Natsumi gave him a silent look.

Fuyuki dropped to a whisper so that the men in white couldn't hear him. "And I think Yanda's an alien, too."

"Is he, now." She let out a sigh and nibbled a bit on an apple, suddenly interested in a speck on the wall.

* * *

After lunch, Natsumi had to leave, which Fuyuki was always disappointed and a bit confused by. Another therapy hour followed with Bariri, which was extremely uneventful and boring, but at the same time, he wished it would drag out longer so that he could procrastinate on his least favorite part of the day: exercise.

But today's hour of exercise, when he reached it, seemed rather somber. Perhaps it was because Giroro wasn't there like he normally was. He should have been back by now, Fuyuki thought. But he wasn't.

Fuyuki didn't do much exercise that day. There wasn't really anything to be energetic about. Mostly it was because of the weird stuff happening that he didn't understand, puberty-unrelated. So instead of doing laps, or swimming, or playing sports games like everyone else was doing in the gym, Fuyuki distracted himself by reading all the papers taped to the windows and walls. Lists of Hinata House rules.

He'd seen them frequently; they were posted practically everywhere in his house, and every so often a doctor or therapist like the lady from earlier would repeat a rule or two. They confused him, though he figured he might as well take the time to read them just once.

Rule #1: _TREAT OTHERS AS YOU EXPECT TO BE TREATED YOURSELF_.

Rule #2: _COMPLY WITH YOUR SCHEDULE_.

Rule #3: _NO STORY-TELLING INVOLVING EXCESSIVE VIOLENCE_.

Rule #4: _NO POSSESSION OF DRUGS, ALCOHOL, OR WEAPONS_.

Rule #5: _NO POSSESSION OF ANY ELECTRONICS NOT PRESCRIBED BY A DOCTOR_.

The farther he got down the rule list, the more confused he became.

Rule #6: _NO ACTS OF AGGRESSION OR VIOLENCE_.

Rule #7: _HUGGING IS THE ONLY PHYSICAL CONTACT ALLOWED_.

Rule #8: _HUGGING MUST BE GENTLE AND BETWEEN PERSONS OF THE SAME GENDER_.

Rule #9: _NO PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION_.

Rule #10: _NO PRIVATE DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION_.

Rule #11: _NO EXCHANGE OF MATERIALS_.

Rule #12: _NO EXCHANGE OF FLUIDS_.

Rule #13: _VISITORS ARE ALLOWED ONE HOUR AT MAXIMUM_.

Rule #14: _PHONE CALLS ARE ALLOWED TO LAST FIFTEEN MINUTES AT MAXIMUM_.

Fuyuki's heart pounded as he continued reading downward. Forget confusing. This was downright frightening.

Rule #15: _MANDATORY CHECKUPS MUST BE PERFORMED ON PATIENTS EVERY FIFTEEN MINUTES_.

Rule #16: _ALL ROOMS ARE SUBJECT TO SEARCHES AT ANY GIVEN TIME_.

Rule #17: _NO UNAUTHORIZED DEPARTING_.

He was sure his heart skipped a beat for a second there.

And finally, lingering at the bottom with a small specification of "unless supervised by a staff member," was the mystifying Rule #18:

_DON'T TOUCH FLOOR 4_.


	6. No More Monkeys Jumping on the Bed

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**So yeah, this chapter I wrote. I think you can tell because apparently there's a humorous creepy tone to it. You learn a bit more about the characters and all.**

**Reminder to please review, it really makes my sister happy. (And me) **

* * *

When Fuyuki finished reading the list, instead of feeling cold fear, a scream of shock erupted from his throat.

"NO!" It was a short, high-pitched scream, but it was enough to startle himself into falling backward into the pool that the men in white had chosen as the exercise location of the day.

The pool was only three feet deep, but it was enough to feel like an endless abyss to someone who couldn't swim. Once submerged, Fuyuki felt he might never get out.

"Are you all right?" Koyuki asked, easily pulling Fuyuki out of the water and back into the breathable air around him. He coughed up the water that had filled his lungs.

"T-thanks…" he spoke gratefully.

Koyuki smiled at him. "No problem. Maybe you should work on your grip and footing, though. You were thrashing around like a dead fish or something."

"You know I can't swim, right? That's why I was thrashing around. I was drowning," he answered seriously. Had Koyuki forgotten about his problem? Maybe she had, or Natsumi had neglected to tell her.

All Koyuki did was raise an eyebrow. "You were drowning in a three foot deep pool?" She shook her head. "Fuyuki… you need to get stronger. If you had been in my gang, you wouldn't have lasted a week."

"Gang?" Fuyuki was confused. "Don't you mean ninja clan?"

"Ninja clan?—Oh… you must be confused be thinking of something else. The Forest Ninja is just the name of our gang. We aren't really ninja." She gave a quick smile in a playful, friendly tone. "Sorry."

_She isn't really a ninja?_ Fuyuki's head spun. _What is she talking about? Wait… has she been lying to me this whole time about being a ninja? No… Lance Corporal Dororo is a ninja, too, so she couldn't be lying, because she taught him all she knows…. So she must be playing a joke on me right now! _he decided.

"Anyway, Fuyuki… why did you fall in?" Koyuki asked with concern.

"Oh…. It's 'cuz of that…."

Fuyuki pointed to the wall with the list of rules. Maybe Koyuki would be able to decipher how it got into his house, or perhaps, since she was in such a joking mood it seemed, she might be the one who put it there using her ninja tricks.

"Oh." She paused for a moment, "Yeah, you really have to train your mind and body to not be surprised by that. I mean, those rules are scary, but not in a terrifying, controlling way, but more of a '_Why would anyone think it was a good idea to have these rules_' way. You don't really have to worry about following them. I mean, I don't follow them, and D doesn't, either."

"Miss Koyuki!" Dororo popped out of the water to shush his friend. "Don't listen to her, Fuyuki. I only don't follow _one_ of those rules because the doctors here made a generous exception for me. They decided I would be much more helpful and kinder if they were kind in return. Isn't that a lovely philosophy?"

"They aren't that kind," Koyuki complained with a frown. "I mean, for some reason they don't like me climbing up onto the walls and falling down from the ceiling on top of them to ambush them!"

"I think you'll have to reexamine your statement to figure out the reason yourself of why they wouldn't let you do that," said Dororo.

"It just doesn't make sense! Isn't doing that to get breakfast normal? I don't understand!" she said. "They keep telling me to be more 'normal' even though I do the most normal things, like stealing all the keys to their rooms, and flying kites out into the yard!"

"I don't think they consider _putting_ yourself on a kite and trying to fly out of this place normal, Miss Koyuki," he said to her. "Although I honestly don't see why not, when all spirits themselves just wants to fly freely into the air and soar!"

"Yeah! I mean, isn't it normal to try to escape imprisonment on kites?"

Fuyuki carefully stepped between the two, while also making sure not to slip into the water. Again.

"What I meant is _who_ put this list of rules in my house. And, why are they trying to control me?" Fuyuki asked. "Th-this isn't normal…. Someone got into my house and is trying to take control over it." He thought for a second. "Maybe I should call Mom and tell her; she'd be worried…."

"You have a Mom?" Koyuki asked rather bluntly.

"Of course he does, Miss Koyuki," Dororo answered. "Everybody has a mother, even Mother Nature herself, whose mother is Lady Earth, who gave birth to all the plants and animals herself."

"Of course I have a Mom! You've met her, Koyuki!" Fuyuki insisted

"Th-he pink haired girl? But she looks awfully young…" Koyuki trailed off

"No! That's my sister. She's your friend but I don't need to remind you that. I guess you really are just playing a prank on me…." Fuyuki decided to stop questioning Koyuki about these rules; it wouldn't be the best to do when she was in a playful sort of lying mood.

Koyuki glanced at Dororo and looked away. "I don't have a Mom…."

Things got quiet and awkward fast.

"Well, uhhh…. Almost end of exercise period, huh?" Fuyuki checked his non-existent watch. "Got to be going, bye!" Waving, he ran out of the pool, only tripping a total of three times, each time caught by Koyuki, who was the one he was fleeing from. It was awkward.

Eventually, exercise period ended just as Fuyuki had predicted, and he was forced to head off to another therapy meeting with Pururu.

"So what happened today, guys?" Pururu asked. As usual, she sat facing Fuyuki and Mois. "I know I'm usually supposed to ask that as your therapist, and you both say '_Fine_,' and we leave it at that, but let's try a different approach." Pururu paused. "How about you tell me what happened today, and I explain what really happened."

Fuyuki paused. He didn't really like the way that sounded, but he trusted Pururu and might be able to get the answers he needed about what these rules were about. He could tell, though, that Mois was biting her lip to hold back some sort of response, probably to express her disinterest in doing that.

Fuyuki put a supporting hand on her shoulder as if to say, "it's all right, we can trust Pururu."

_I wonder why Mois isn't being secretive about Sarge's invasion plan of just pretending to be human too…. Was she just out of the loop, or does she not support it? _he wondered. He decided, though, that even if they were pretending to be human, he'd just have to play along to get the information he needed.

"Well, my day started like any other with those men in white taking my blood… for some reason." Fuyuki frowned. "Are they doing some sort of experiment? Like, getting my DNA so they can make my clone?" His eyes glowed in excitement.

Pururu turned to Mois and waited for what she could say about the event and her take on the matter. Mois just shrugged.

"I slept through the morning check-ups. You could say, the early bird gets the needle and I didn't want that?" Mois smiled.

"You need to have your health checks. How will the doctors know how to help your narcolepsy if you don't let them examine you?" Pururu asked. "And you, Fuyuki… those aren't men in white. They're just doctors. Doctors who want to help you."

"Doctors? Really?" Fuyuki tried to keep the anger and fear out of his rising voice. "If they really wanted to help, then why have they invaded my house and set up rules that imprison me here?" His voice was now urgent and shrill; he couldn't keep it calm. "Why so many creepy rules?"

"Because they're Pekoponians," Mois answered simplistically. A gloom fell over her face. "Some think stupidly that they're helping, but then they accidentally do bad. And some don't try to help at all, and just think only of themselves and keep sinning. That's just what Pekoponians do."

Pururu quieted her by giving her a scolding glare.

"Fuyuki, those rules were, in fact, put up by them… the staff. But they're only to help. If you want, we can go through them and I can explain each one individually," she ensured.

"If they're there to help, why didn't Mom or Sis tell me someone set them up in our house?"

Pururu gave Fuyuki a somewhat sad look.

"And if the doctors are there to help, and if mysterious things are happening on Floor 4, then why was the Corporal sent up there for fighting? I mean, all I've heard about this Floor 4 is 'don't go up there, it's dangerous,' but he was still sent up there."

Pururu stopped writing down notes and instead looked at Fuyuki in shock. "Giroro was sent up to Floor 4? They're not allowed to do that anymore!"

"Yeah, he was sent to this thing called the _Healing Room_. I don't remember having one of those." Fuyuki clutched his head. "Why's life gotten so weird lately?"

Instead of calming the boy, Pururu set her papers down.

"I'm sorry about this, but I think we'll have to cancel our therapy session for the day. I have to talk to Garuru. You two…. You two can go to your rooms or something and have some extra free time."

Before Fuyuki could question her anymore about the rules, Pururu was already leaving.

"Yay! More sleep!" Mois seemed to be the only one happy, and she immediately set off to do her favorite thing.

* * *

Fuyuki headed over to dinner, hoping to question the Sarge about these rules instead. Thinking about Keroro more, the answer about these rules seemed obvious: They had been set up by Keroro as a "take over the house" scheme. He would probably even deny this if Fuyuki asked him.

Instead, he instead decided to ask Tamama, who Keroro usually told his plans too.

"Hey, Tamama…" Fuyuki asked while taking a bite out of his food. "Did the Sarge set up all those rules that are hanging around my house?"

"Of course not! That seems pretty absurd." Tamama laughed. "I mean, Mr. Keroro _is_ pretty cool and all, but I don't think he'd be able to. It's the staff that does that."

"Of course I did!" Keroro said when he overheard the conversation. "My old job was to hang those things up. And they made me come up with all the rules, too, so I set up some cool ones."

Fuyuki must have heard something wrong because he could have sworn he heard Koyuki cough the word "liar" and then look at him with a twinkle in her eye.

Fuyuki would have questioned Keroro more about his confession of being the one who had set up the rules, but he heard Lieutenant Garuru's voice bellow through the dining hall instead before he could complete his thought.

"You sent my little brother WHERE?"

"Into the healing room…" one of the men in white—or was he a doctor?—sniveled. "I-I'm sorry that Miss Uru forgot he was _your_ brother. It won't happen again."

"It better not. Remember, Giroro's not supposed to be up there with that creep," he snarled. Yanda, Fuyuki guessed, though admittedly he wouldn't have used that word to define the guy on first impression.

"All right! Don't worry! He won't be sent up there again!" the doctor promised, shaking. "B-but I'm sure Mr. Hae's brother could take care of himself. He's tough like you."

"Darn right he's tough. A lot tougher than most of these doctors here."

When Garuru realized that the patients around him were listening to their conversation, he cleared his throat awkwardly and calmed down.

"We'd better take this outside. Don't worry, though; violence is something permeated by this institution." Pausing, Garuru whispered something into the doctor's ear. It must have been a threat of some sort, because the man turned white. Garuru then led him out of the cafeteria.

Honestly, even though Fuyuki should've been concerned by these rules all over his house, he was getting more and more interested in the occult legend that was Floor 4.

* * *

After dinner and seeing a couple more doctors, Fuyuki was sent to another collective therapy room. Giroro sat on a chair, waiting for the rest of the group.

"I see you've returned safely," Keroro smiled. Giroro growled at his teasing.

"Where'd you get that cut?" Tamama asked, pointing to a cut on Giroro's forehead. It was small, light, and didn't look like it went very deep.

He shrugged. "Must have been in the fight."

A therapist sat down in front of all the group. Fuyuki recognized her as the woman who had tried to make Yanda and Giroro hug earlier that day, the lady with the pink-brown professional bun and sapphire eyes. Her fair complexion served as a fine supplement to the makeup applied gently on her face.

"Hello, everyone!" The woman clasped her hands together with a cheery look on her face. "Sadly, Ingrid is sick today, so I volunteered to fill in." She beamed at them. "I'm Sai Uru, but you can just call me _Sai_. I'll do the same for you and call you by your name. Let's all be friends here, all right?"

She seemed so kind that Fuyuki felt inclined to trust her, even if she was just a normal human. Sai frowned at the awkward silence the group was giving off.

"Who wants to start?" she asked, sounding optimistic.

Nobody said a word.

"All right…." She clapped her hands. "If nobody wants to start, I suppose I will. Anybody want to sing a friendship song?"

Everybody (except Keroro) groaned, but none more so than Giroro, who sent a harsh glare her way.

"No? Very well, then. Ooh! I have an idea. Let's all take the time to learn a little bit about each other. We'll start from the beginning…. Beginning…. Roots…. Hmmm…." She tapped her foot. "I've got it!" She smiled, her genius idea taking place in her head. "How about we talk about the roots of your problems! Where it _all_ began."

Nobody seemed too happy by this idea.

"Well, if you don't want to talk about it, I've got all your roots right here in my little notebook." Sai Uru flashed them a pleasant grin.

"What about Patient Confidentiality?" Keroro finally asked.

"This will be a great bonding experience for all of you! Learning all of each other's problems. 'Patient Confidentiality' needs to fly right out the window for this exercise!" she proclaimed.

"Ahhh, like the bird flying out a window to feed its young…." Dororo had a spaced-out look on his face, obviously not being caught up with the conversation. Tamama glared at him.

"Koyuki. Koyuki Azumaya. Where are you?"

Sai looked around the room for Koyuki, as if expecting her to eagerly raise her hand for sharing time. Koyuki didn't. "Well, you're here because you've been raised in a gang all your life, and after being abandoned by those awful people, we decided to be your new family and raise you into being a normal girl! Kind of like the story of Pinocchio! Isn't that great?" Sai made herself frown. "Now do you want to talk about how lonely and betrayed you felt when they abandoned you? Or why you hold onto their strange, strange rituals when we only want to help normalize you?"

Koyuki's blinking eyes looked as if they were sputtering; she was at a loss for words.

"M-my gang… my _family_ didn't abandon me," she finally answered. "They just couldn't save me when the police came. It was my fault for not training hard enough. But in no way is this hospital my new family!"

Her body jerked slightly, as if to lunge, but Dororo's hand clamped onto her shoulder to keep her down. He gave her a reassuring look, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I know…. It's probably not worth it. I'll definitely be caught and be sent up _there_ and nobody wants that. I should pick the battles I can win…" she repeated, almost word-for-word like a lesson that had been taught to her.

Dororo nodded. "Striking in stealth is the best way. That is what you taught me, Miss Koyuki."

"Yay! You bonded!" Sai clapped her hands together. "Now, Tamama—"

Tamama's expression was happy and cheerful.

"I don't know your last name because you don't have any. And let's see… you're here for a bi-polar issue—"

Sai didn't get any farther than that.

"HOW DARE YOU SAY I'M BI-POLAR! IN NO WAY AM I BI-POLAR AT ALL!" he shouted. "TAMAMA IMPACT!" A light-energy flowed from his mouth and blasted the empty chair right next to her to smithereens.

She shook her head, disappointed in him. "Unfortunately ,yours is a genetic disorder that can only be helped with pills…. Uhhh, don't know what else to say about that…." She quickly turned to Keroro for the next assessment.

"I can tell you my root on my own if you want!" he volunteered.

"Oh, that's all right, Keroro. You're not really allowed to since on the file it says you're a 'compulsive liar.' Anyway, you started your problems after realizing how much guilt you held for damaging and hurting two of your childhood friends, eventually letting them end up here. Don't you know all that guilt can just go away if you just give them a nice big hug and tell them how you feel?" Sai asked.

"I… I didn't do anything…. I-it's not my fault…. I'm so…."

Keroro couldn't finish his apology and instead stood up. "I'm going to go build some Gundam." He left the room.

The team was one less.

"Dororo. Your root is trauma from being bullied and used by your closest friend, which eventually caused you to start a drug addiction. Do you want to talk about it?" Sai furrowed her eyebrows, giving him a cute, sympathetic look.

"I don't think I have a drug addiction." Dororo took out what appeared to be a small roll of paper as he spoke. "Just let your spirit be free. Trauma doesn't bother me anyway." He began to smile more than someone normally should.

Sai frowned and pointed to the door, holding her nose. Dororo left with Koyuki, who helped him out.

Two had left the group again.

"Now, Mois." Sai shook her head over and over again, trying to make sense of the next subject. "Your root—the source of your delusions—that was when you were caught in one of the world's biggest earthquakes! Three years ago you fell down a fissure and almost lost your life, causing you to be traumatized and have severe delusions," Sai stated. "Or that's the current theory, at least."

"HA!" Tamama let out a laugh.

"I caused the earthquake!" she claimed. "I didn't almost lose my life, I had complete control! If anybody was smart enough or were seismologists they would have seen that the source of the quakes were coming from that area and that my story was true!" Mois paused and spoke slowly, "I don't know why everybody is against me…. I just want to destroy your planet and everybody on it."

Fuyuki could have sworn he heard something similar earlier that evening.

"Re-examine what you said, Miss, and go to your room. Murder is always awful!" Sai pointed toward the door.

To her surprise, Tamama followed after her, probably to make fun of her some more.

Two more had left, leaving only Giroro and Fuyuki as survivors.

"Now Giroro…."

"Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it." He growled and narrowed his eyes. "Say it and I'll _rip your throat out_!"

"Don't be like that," she pouted. "It's best to face things, Corporal Grumpy."

_Hey, that sounds sort of like what I call him,_ thought Fuyuki, _sort of._

Giroro's hands tightened on the arms of his chair, and he made permanent nail-marks in the covering. "I thought there were _rules_ against you… against you saying things like that. Intentionally _trying_ to get me ANGRY at you!"

"You're among friends! It's all good!" She glanced down at the file again. "Giroro, you—"

Giroro punched her across the face.

"Ah!" She made a small scream and pressed her hand to her cheek, smearing some of her makeup. She slowly looked up at Giroro. "Mister… you're in _big_ trouble."

"Don't worry. I'll head up to Floor 4 on my own. It's still better than hearing what you have to say." Giroro marched out of the room alone.

"A-are you okay?" Fuyuki asked, getting closer to Sai. She was a nice girl and didn't deserve such a strong punch. Sai collapsed in a sofa, trying to rub her wound and not cry.

"N-no…" she sniffled. "Thank you, though, Fuyuki…. You're a nice patient…. You're the only one who appreciates me and my efforts to help all of you…." She paused. "I'll help you too…. You really deserve it."

Fuyuki was curious to what she had to say. He didn't have any roots; he wasn't a tree.

Sai sat up and gathered her papers back into a stack. "Now, let's see… your delusions started from after you saw your mother crash in a motorcycle accident."

Fuyuki froze. This lie wasn't very funny. But… at the same time, deep memories tried to surface at the top of his brain. He saw small flashes of things he didn't even want to see. They must have been memories of nightmares that he had had in the past—of his mother's smashed skull, some of her brain still against the pavement… and her palm facing up, her hand spread out slightly in a clutching position, just like she was sleeping… the hand being the only restful part of his mother.

Fuyuki began to shiver. He stepped away from Sai, and felt the wall come closer behind him. He began to scream from the images in his head.

"NOOO! That didn't happen!" Fuyuki clutched his head and scrambled out of the room, unable to help Sai's injury anymore. Running but avoiding the walls, he turned the corner and hid in his room, locking the door, hiding under a blanket and crying. Even if it was a nightmare, he didn't want to see that image.

His mother Aki was alive, she was just at work and would be home soon to play with Keroro and him.

The therapist was lying.

Everybody was lying to him and he didn't know why.

And with that, all the patients had been driven from the room by a single therapist.


	7. How It Used to Be

**So sorry this chapter was so late. And sorry for the weird error when I first posted. Scissors wrote this chapter.**

* * *

It was a full day until Fuyuki finally came out of his room.

Doctors and therapists tried to take him out by force, for his own good, but it was all in vain. At some point, Keroro offered his assistance, but that failed, too. When the doctors and therapists all left, Keroro sat down by Fuyuki's bed and placed a hand on the boy's back, not knowing what else to do.

Fuyuki was awfully quiet. Keroro took his hand of his back and realized from his soft breathing that he must have been asleep, or he appeared to be. It baffled him to see Fuyuki in this broken state. Normally, he was always the one who cheered everyone up, even if when he carried a number of problems himself. Keroro didn't know exactly what had happened that evening, or why Fuyuki had shut himself in his room, away from everyone, but it saddened him in a way, a way that was a little bit too familiar. It was a sickening feeling, worming its way into his gut and twisting around his heart. For an instant he thought he might suffocate from it.

So Keroro left the bed and read a manga instead.

* * *

On Tuesday morning, Fuyuki woke up as he normally would and resumed his morning rituals as though not a thing had happened two days before.

He had done a lot of thinking yesterday, when he had shut himself in his room. He thought a bit about why the Hinata House was changing in the first place. He realized something wasn't right—no—he realized that _nothing_was right. Everything was wrong. Every_one_ was wrong. And from this he could conclude only one thing:

A conspiracy had taken place—in his very own house.

He hadn't a clue why this did not cross his mind before; it was all clear now that he realized this—the strict rules; the tight schedule; the doctors, therapists, and men in white. They were trying to make Fuyuki forget his old life; and the more he thought about it, the more it all came back to him.

He remembered how Dororo and Koyuki were an inseparable ninja duo, how Dororo stood by his own rules and moral code, abandoning his platoon when goals and values clashed. How Koyuki and his sister were the best of friends; how Koyuki was an awful cook and how her rice balls always turned into cannonballs instead.

—"No, I'm pretty sure that I'm not a ninja," Dororo told him when Fuyuki asked.

All Koyuki said was, "What? You think my rice balls taste bad?"—

He remembered the smell of roasted sweet potatoes wafting from the backyard as Corporal Giroro tried desperately to weave a small plot that would temporarily get Natsumi and him closer together; how the stalwart soldier would constantly nag Keroro about the invasion and whip out the guns to destroy things if nothing got done.

—"What?" When Fuyuki spoke to Giroro, he looked confused and angrier than ever. "That doesn't sound like me at all. I've never even met your sister! …Though… I've seen her in passing…" His voice got quieter. "…and admittedly, she was kind of cute…." He realized he had accidentally said that out loud, and instead he glared at Fuyuki. "How many times have I told you not to call me _Corporal_?!"—

He remembered not being able to sleep some nights because the maniacal laughter of Sergeant Major Kululu, the most dislikeable guy, would be ringing from the depths of their house. How the smell of curry plagued his lab in the base; how he and Saburo teamed up to defeat various nefarious villains, whether from the inside or out.

He remembered how Tamama lived in Momoka's mansion, and how his addiction to sweets sometimes sucked out bags of money from her funds, how Tamama's unpredictable moods might determine the events that took place that day. How Momoka would help Tamama with issues he had with a new animal or Pokopenian friend of his. He remembered how Momoka would sometimes spend lots of money for… reasons which Fuyuki knew not. Whatever those men in white said about Fuyuki being delusional, he knew that they were wrong, because how could Fuyuki make up something like Momoka's confusing behavior toward him?

—"Momotchi buys me sweets sometimes because we're friends, but I don't live in her mansion," said Tamama.

Momoka frowned. "Fuyuki, why do you act stranger around me than you do everyone else?"—

But most of all, he remembered his close bond with Sergeant Keroro, a friendship that extended all the way to the cosmos, beyond the barrier of enemies. He remembered how the two of them ran away together in humid summer afternoons to walk around the suburbs and meet new people. How Keroro's alien stories brought disappointment, laughter, and important sentiments all together. He remembered their friendship and how real it was; he remembered all the things they did together. It was all real; he knew that it was.

Running these thoughts through his head again, it only made him see more how wrong it all was that Keroro and the others were pretending not to remember the times they had all spent together. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't meant to be.

All throughout the morning he thought these things, stuffing it down further and further till he could take it no longer. Keroro's intricate invasion plot was getting tiring. He hated having to go along with everything, having to go undercover for his sister just to find out more about their plot. He hated how they were keeping quiet. At the same time… that meant… if the whole platoon was this dedicated to the plan, then it might come close to succeeding. If the frogs invaded, then what would happen to their Pokopenian friends? It was during lunch when finally, with strained frustration, Fuyuki practically barked to Keroro:

"How could you just ignore all the time we spent together?"

Quickly, he clamped his hands over his mouth. All eyes turned to him, as he had spoken out of nowhere, without having previously uttered a word that day.

"Fuyuki?" Keroro furrowed his brow. "What's the matter?"

Fuyuki hushed down and dropped to his knees so he could speak with him without other people listening. "I'm tired of your invasion plan, Sarge."

Keroro blinked at him.

"I hate how everyone has to act like I'm wrong about things for this plan to work…. I know that you want me to stay quiet, but…. Can we take a break, just for a small—"

"Fuyuki." Keroro placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. For just a small second, he looked off to the side. Then he leaned in and whispered, "Not here."

Those two words were said with such ease, with such undeniable certainty, that Fuyuki felt all the tension wash out of him right then and there. He smiled and looked Keroro in the eye gratefully.

* * *

"He is a strange kid, isn't he."

Nubibi observed the two from his own table, sucking on his yogurt spoon thoughtfully.

Ýue had her arms folded across her chest. "Not really. There are a lot of strange people here. After a while it stops being so surprising." She glanced at him. "You're new here, so of course you'd be interested in every single_mundane_ thing that happens."

"It's not every day that a kid comes screaming back from a therapy appointment."

"Here it is. People are always overreacting. Such drama…. It bores me."

"I could hack you into a million pieces and that would probably bore you."

"Ew, you're starting to sound like Yanda. He's boring, too."

Nubibi furrowed his brow. "Why do you think that he told him that?"

"Yanda told _who_ _what_, Nubibi."

"No, not Yanda. The guy in the frog hoodie. He told him 'not here.' Why do you think he said that?"

"I don't know. Because he's a liar?"

"Yeah, but…." Nubibi paused. "Have you ever thought for a moment that aliens might exist?"

"No. That's dumb, Nubibi."

"Here me out, I'm just saying. What if he was telling the truth?"

"Well, dishonest minds think alike." She shot him a dirty look.

Really, they did not know much. For the first time, Keroro felt guilty for not being truthful.

* * *

After Keroro was finished with his lunch, Fuyuki dragged him off to a place outside in the courtyard where nobody could here them talk. Fuyuki laughed and threw his arms around him thankfully. "You really _were_ with me all this time!"

Keroro opened his mouth, thought a moment, and said, "That's right, Fuyuki."

"Those men and white were wrong after all!"

"Um… no. You see, there _is_ no invasion plot."

That was something that Fuyuki didn't expect.

"No. There's… uh… a different thing going on. We're investigating a whereabouts of a dangerous alien here. And they're with me in this hunt."

"They… are?" Fuyuki looked confused for a moment, until he finally decided to believe Keroro. Usually he was an untrustworthy frog, but he had no reason to lie about something like this.

"Yes. They've actually been helping us _protect_ Ear—Pekopon."

"You mean Pokopen?"

"Same thing. Anyway, Fuyuki, they're actually working _with_ us. Not against us."

Another thing Fuyuki didn't expect.

"So—so they've actually been trying to help us all this time?"

"Yup."

"But then what do they mean when they tell me I'm just having _delusions_? Why would they lie to me like that, Sarge?"

Keroro was silent. No answer came to him; no shrug, no nod or shake of the head, nor anything.

"Unless…" Fuyuki's eyes widened. "…they're trying to… protect me from this alien they're investigating. By pretending that there _aren't_ any aliens! And—And they want me to pretend, too!"

Keroro put his face into his hand.

"But… who could this alien be…?"

All of a sudden, Tamama burst into view.

"Here's where you two were!" He put his hands on his knees, panting. "Come quick! Yanda's causing trouble again and you don't want to miss the action!"

* * *

Momoka

Of all things that had to go wrong that day.

Tamama had led them to the scene of crime, an area a little ways off on the other end of the courtyard. A few people were crowded around, but with the help of an angry, frightening Tamama, Fuyuki and Keroro pushed past.

On the weekends, Momoka was always gone. It being Tuesday, she was back again, and the fighting spirit was in her veins once more… or so it appeared, since she was standing in front of Yanda Rechi. Both of them looked angry and like they were ready to break the other's bones. Fuyuki was immediately frightened. He knew what the guy had done to Giroro; he couldn't stand for a second just the _thought_ of what he might do to Momoka.

"I'm just making a suggestion," Yanda was saying when they had arrived. "The kid's really no danger! Maybe you oughta put him in Group B instead."

"Why would you even…." Her eyebrows furrowed together and she looked downward, her fists quivering.

"It'd be easy. 'Specially for someone like you, Mistress Moneybags." Yanda grinned. "And then I could swap places with him."

"Yanda!" a kid cried from the side. Fuyuki recognized him as Nubibi, Yanda's friend. "Why would you want to leave us? We're so fun!"

"Yes, who could ever get tired of Nubibi," said Yanda's other friend, Yue, as she rolled her eyes.

"Sw-swap places?" said Momoka. "I don't have the ability to let you do that anyway, but I—I can't let you swap places with Fuyuki!"

A cold chill went down Fuyuki's back when he realized that they had been talking about him. What had he walked in on? Why was Yanda trying to switch places with him?

Yanda let out a hearty, craggy laugh. "The kid's got no danger level, though! Whereas, _I'm_ Level 7. So wouldn't it be fun to switch things up a bit?"

Momoka clenched her fists. "This isn't some sort of _game_."

"Oh, come on! He can be with the rest of the delusional kids and weirdoes from my group!" Yanda gestured to a table a little ways away, in which sat Asami and two pigtailed girls: one with glasses and a notebook, and the other who clutched a black headband in her hands like it was some precious artifact as she uttered the word "Daddy."

Fuyuki didn't want to leave Group A. That would mean that he'd have to part from all his friends… Keroro, Tamama, Momoka, Giroro, Dororo, Koyuki, Mois…. He couldn't get separated from all of them, especially not after Keroro had trusted him so much as to tell him that this wasn't actually an invasion plot.

"_You're_ the delusional one," Momoka spat, "if you honestly think that Fuyuki and you will switch places! Just—just do it yourself!"

With that, she began to walk off. From behind her, Yanda spoke, "Maybe I will, then," and she froze.

"What…?"

Yanda guffawed. "If only you could see the expression on your face!"

"Y-you can't do that," she objected.

"Or can I?" He raised an eyebrow. Just then, Fuyuki recalled what Keroro had told him a few days ago. The Rechi family was really rich. What if Yanda could actually swap groups with Fuyuki, just because he felt like it?

Fuyuki couldn't take it any longer. He couldn't watch from the side while Yanda talked about him and Momoka talked in his defense. He stepped out from the crowd.

"Yanda, I think it should be me who you're asking that question."

"F-Fuyuki!" said Momoka, a bit surprised. "Y-you were…?"

"Fukki! Don't be a hero!" Tamama yelled from the crowd.

Fuyuki did not listen. He planted his hands on his hips and faced Yanda bravely. This was about him, so it was his fight. He couldn't let people like Momoka get involved.

"Hm?" Yanda looked at him. "Kid, I can do whatever I want."

"No you can't," Fuyuki persisted. "Just because you're stronger… and tougher… and a bit more powerful than us… it doesn't mean that you can have any way you want!" He pointed a finger accusingly at him. "I know who you really are!"

Yanda looked surprised for a moment and took a step back.

"You're the alien that the men in white have been investigating!" he said. "The Sarge and the rest of his platoon will defeat you!"

Chatter broke out amongst the crowd. Faces turned to Keroro and Tamama, who fearfully began to back away.

Yanda only laughed at him. "Well, get me a towel, Alien Boy, because I think I just wet myself from fright."

From behind Fuyuki, Momoka swerved around and ran up to him. "How's _THIS_ for frightening!"

She leapt into the air, and Fuyuki watched a transformation take place. Momoka's bangs turned into spikes, and her pupils shrunk. She raised her fist and laid a punch right in Yanda's gut. He stumbled back, clutching his stomach, and stood back up. As he flexed his biceps, causing his muscles to move under his short-sleeved shirt, Fuyuki saw the dragon tattoo ripple.

Yanda lunged, about to attack Momoka, but Fuyuki darted out and pushed her out of the way. They both fell onto the ground together; Yanda just fell past the area that she had previously been standing on.

"F-Fuyuki…." Momoka stood up and brushed herself off. Her face was a bit red.

Yanda turned to them and growled. "That kid… keeps getting in my way."

"I can't let you hurt Momoka!" he said defiantly.

"Punk, I can do whatever I want!" He raised his fist. A familiar voice sprung out from behind them—"No, you can't."

Fuyuki turned around to see who it was; even Yanda did, too. Sai Uru now stood before the crowd, crossing her arms in disappointment of what was yet again a disruption caused by Yanda.

She shook her head. "Yanda, Yanda, Yanda. What is the matter with you?"

He was silent as doctors appeared at either side of him.

"I thought the Healing Room had _done_ something for you!"

His face paled. "You're not taking me there again, you crazy woman!"

_Yes,_ thought Fuyuki. _Take him there!_

Sai sighed. "Unfortunately, the Healing Room is out of service at the moment." She smiled. "However, we _will_ be taking you to therapy at once!"

Yanda made a groaning sound and drooped his head. As he did so, Fuyuki caught sight of something that he could have sworn wasn't there before—a small scar, right on his forehead. Yanda's head lolled for a moment, then raised again, eyes locked on Fuyuki.

"Just you wait, Fuyuki Hinata. Soon you'll think twice about standing in my way." His lips peeled into a sneer. "And when I'm done with you, say hi to your Mom in Hell for me, won't you?"

Fuyuki's legs started shaking. _How does he—Who told him that lie!_ A cry emitted from his throat and he fell to the ground. Momoka sat down beside him, her hands on his shoulders so she could help him breath.

"Mister Yanda Rechi." Sai's mouth was gaping open. "You are _not_ allowed to trigger other patients!"

"Hypocrite," someone scoffed from the crowd. Fuyuki shakily tilted his head up and spotted Giroro.

"Why would you say that, Giroro?" said Sai with a pout.

"He's just bitter against me, too," Yanda put in.

Giroro glared at him. "Do you _want_ me to rip your throat out? Because I will. Trust me, _I will_."

"Violence is not permitted in the Hinata House!" she warned him. "This is supposed to be a peaceful pla—"

"Peaceful?" Giroro laughed at the idea. "This is an insane asylum! The richest one in the country! And yet everyone shoves the most dangerous people here. That's why we have guys like _him_!" he gestured to Yanda. "That's why we can never get rid of _him_!"

"Well, then, we just need to find a way to work with each oth—" Sai closed her mouth. "Oh… you weren't just talking about Yanda, were you…."

"This is crazy. This whole place is crazy," Giroro snarled.

"G-Giroro, you don't have to—" Fuyuki tried to get him to stop, but his head was overtaken by another shudder, and his body curled into a ball.

"Oh, Giroro," said Sai. "I'm sorry that you think that. You won't always have to think that, though. Soon, you'll get bet—"

"Get what? Get better?" He narrowed his eyes at her, and his scar wrinkled. "I am never going to let myself get better! The only people here who _want_ to get better are idiots! Not even Yanda wants to. You can't get us to bow to the authority of the enemy. I won't. No one here will."

"Giroro, we're not your enemy—" she tried to insist.

"I! DON'T! CARE!" he yelled. With that, Giroro stomped off.

The whole courtyard was silent. Never before had Fuyuki seen someone that angry for what appeared to be no reason at all. Giroro had a problem that needed to be solved. Maybe the therapists were right. You couldn't get better unless you accepted the help. Why wouldn't Giroro want to get better? …Did Yanda not want to get better too? It would have explained his behavior, certainly.

For a painful moment, Fuyuki moved his eyes back to Yanda before he had to lower his head again.

* * *

Later, after lunch, and after Fuyuki could go back to standing up properly and thinking straight, Momoka, Keroro, and Tamama helped him walk through the hallways. Fuyuki decided finally to ask what was on his mind.

"Why would someone not want to get better?"

The other three were silent for a very long moment. Momoka finally started to say something, but so did Keroro, and both of them shut their mouths at the same time. There was silence again for a moment, until Keroro decided to speak.

"Some…. Some people… they don't have anything, you know?" He looked downward. "Maybe no family… no friends… no Gundam… no anything. It's a bit sad… don't you think?"

Tamama's eyes were red. Even Momoka didn't look completely okay.

"So if they don't have any life waiting for them outside of the Hinata House…then they don't really have a reason to try to get better."

Fuyuki thought about that. It was a shame that Giroro evidently had something wrong with him, and even more of a shame that he couldn't fix it. He was sure that those men in white would help him, though. Or therapists and doctors, if that was what they were called. After all, people like those were here to help—just as they were helping Keroro and his platoon investigate that dangerous alien.

Fuyuki had no doubt in his mind that the identity of that alien was Yanda.


End file.
